


If You Love Somebody

by AnakinCaffrey



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Awkward Sexual Situations, Body Image, Childhood Memories, Dubious Consent, Escape Attempt(s), Healing/Sexual Healing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied bathroom sex/rape, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Light BDSM, M/M, Master/Slave, Meeting the Parents, Neal is presently eighteen, Past Child Abuse, Peter is not abusive, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, peter is a dad, slight psychological trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:52:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnakinCaffrey/pseuds/AnakinCaffrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal, a young slave, captures the heart of the man he calls his master and strives to earn his freedom before he dies trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've kind of been wanting to write a N/P slave-fic, but I don't know if I'll continue this. The first chapter is kind of testing the water like I did with the first chapter of What Lies Beneath. If I continue writing this, it isn't going to be identical to the Threads verse. I plan on handling Neal's trauma a little differently and I don't intend on adding any explicit or descriptive rape/non-consensual pieces into this story like I did with the Threads verse.
> 
> I hope the first chapter isn't as bad as I feel like it is. Thanks in advance for reading it.

In the six years that he’d been working on the breeding grounds, Peter had never seen such a tortured young man before. He tried to keep his distance as best he could because the cries, pleas, and screams made him physically ill. He felt like a monster because of the fact that he carried boys out of the back of a van and into a room where he knew they were going to be brutalized. There was only one time when he’d remained in the room after carrying a boy inside and he’d immediately gotten sick. His stomach couldn’t handle the thought of what these bastards he called his ‘co-workers’ were doing to innocent boys. If he knew how to save the boys he brought in, he’d do his damnedest to help them in any way that he could.

Peter Burke was hired as a strongman when he was twenty years old and he, now at the age of twenty-six, was a handler and had seen at least fifty boys killed by other handlers—fifty boys he’d brought into this wretched hell. He understood the whole process from beginning to end. These boys were kidnapped at an early age and trained to either do housework or sex work. Those who obeyed their masters in the preliminary stages of their training usually went on to do housework and serve families. On the flipside, those who disobeyed their masters were sent to the one place Peter considered hell on earth. They weren’t immediately killed for their disobedience, but they were definitely tortured until they submitted or died.

If the boys who were sent here learned to obey their masters, they weren’t given the luxury of being sold to a family. They were sold to sex addicts, to brothels, to monsters in essence. Peter hated doing the paperwork that came with deaths and with transactions. The paperwork kept him away from the boys themselves most of the time, but there was one boy he felt compelled to protect in any way that he could.

Four years ago, he’d carried a fourteen year old out of the back of the ‘breeding van’ that breeders used to bring slaves from their initial masters to the breeding grounds. He’d seen it all when it came to the van, but there was something about the fourteen year old that made him desperate to care for him. The boy had been brutalized by six men in the van and Peter couldn’t imagine what they put him through. He honestly tried not to think about it.

When he’d pulled the boy into his arms, he could just feel the regret, fear, and agony ripping through him. That was natural, of course, but Peter never felt so strongly connected to any of the boys he brought into this hellhole. This boy was the only boy he’d ever branded and he was the one who was, fortunately, assigned to his daily care and handling.

That fourteen year old boy was now eighteen years old and Peter knew he was going to lose him sooner or later because the breeders were beginning to break him.

Walking down the ‘Whoreway,’ Peter approached the cell this particular boy was held in and he entered the code so the door would unlock and he could enter. This particular section of the breeding grounds was for, as the name of the hallway suggested, whores. They were the boys who were becoming skilled sex slaves. As much as that sickened Peter, he was glad he’d earned the boy’s trust over the course of the past four years.

As soon as the door opened and he entered, shutting the door behind him, he heard a shuddering sigh of relief. “I didn’t think you were allowed to see me…”

Peter gave him a sad smile as he inventoried all of the new scrapes, scratches, and bruises on the boy he’s taken care of for the past four years. “I’m allowed in. They’re just not allowing me to feed you and you know how much that pisses me off.” Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, you’re allowed to eat now.” The boy nodded and looked at Peter desperately when he realized Peter had a water bottle in his hands. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” He moved closer to the boy and knelt in front of him, uncapping the bottle and holding it against the boy’s lips. He watched the boy drink as though this would be the last drink he ever had and that always broke his heart. “How’re you feeling? I…heard about last night…”

The boy sighed and whispered, “It wasn’t any different than it is any other night.” He lifted his wrists as much as he could to show Peter the bruises left by restraints he’d been placed in the previous night. “Keller likes bondage. You know that.” Peter frowned at him and reached out to caress the side of the boy’s face that was scraped up. The boy flinched and Peter nearly pulled his hand away until the boy gripped it and placed his hand over the scrapes. “Your touch is the most soothing touch I’ve ever had… Please don’t be afraid to touch me. I apologize for…for reacting to…”

“You’re in pain,” Peter said sadly. “He isn’t allowed to hurt you like this. Your seniority here in this section prohibits him from doing these things to you.” The boy shrugged. “I’m going to report him—again. The asshole who took over the section last night didn’t know that he was on your restricted list and I’m so sorry for not being here to help you.”

The boy’s beautiful azure eyes filled up with tears as he whispered, “I tried to tell them I wasn’t allowed to go with him and they beat me for speaking without permission.”

Peter nodded and rubbed his thumb over the corner of the boy’s mouth as he whispered, “Jones told me he could hear you screaming for me…” The boy didn’t hesitate to nod. “He tried to call me and that asshole ordered him to hand his com over so he couldn’t get in touch with me. He called me this morning and I got here as soon as I could because I knew you were hurt by him.” The boy silently cried as he stared up at Peter miserably. “I’m so sorry. You know I never would have allowed him to come for you if I were here.”

“That’s how I knew you weren’t here,” the boy assured him. “I didn’t blame you because I know you.” Peter smiled sadly as he wiped the boy’s tears away. “I’ve seen the lengths you’ll go to in order to keep me away from men like Keller.” Peter knew he’d earned the boy’s trust early on a few times, but it helped that he’d gotten into a physical fight with an abusive master who was notorious for scarring the bejesus out of his slaves and eventually killing them. As soon as Peter saw him and heard him demand to have the boy he was taking care of, he’d lashed out. It was his duty to protect the boy and care for him, which meant he had the only right to deny men the ‘privilege’ of using the boy. “I know you would’ve come for me if you knew. You’ve never allowed anyone to hurt me and, if they managed to get by you and abuse me, you’ve never allowed them to use me again even if they went over your head and tried to have your boss give me to them.”

“It disgusts me,” Peter hissed, “to ever allow anyone to use you.” The boy closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against Peter’s palm. “I don’t know how you’re still as sane as you are. I’ve watched boys die in these cells and I’ve seen them lose their humanity if they survived. I’ve seen boys become pets who were on a leash held by their master at all times.” The boy opened his eyes and stared up at Peter gratefully. “I hate signing you off as though I actually own you. I—”

“I wish you owned me,” he whispered. “I wish I could leave here and go with you when you leave. I would serve you better than any other slave ever could.”

Peter closed his own eyes and whispered, “I’m still looking into it. I’ve wanted to get you out of here for four years. I want to give you a life outside of…of this—and that means I won’t allow you to become my property.” He glanced around the cell and that always infuriated him. The janitor always seemed to forget to clean this cell and he always came in to find the boy covered in his own shit, piss, or vomit. He knew the boy was still human and needed to relieve himself and he’d tried to find a way to make things more sanitary for him so he wasn’t living so terribly, but he had yet to find some saving grace.

Unfortunately, his efforts always failed and the boy was forced to use his cell as his bathroom. Peter didn’t blame him or judge him as other handlers did with their individual slaves. “Can you shower me?” Peter immediately nodded and watched him for a moment. “I haven’t moved in hours. I know I’m filthy, but…”

“You know I’ll always help you. I don’t give a damn about what’s on your body. All I want to do is clean you up and…and…” He stared into the boy’s eyes and sighed regretfully. “I wish I could do much more for you.”

“Peter, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I was born into slavery and I ended up here because I took the fall for another boy’s actions.” Peter knew that. He’d stayed in the boy’s cell for a few nights in the beginning so he could try to get to know him better and he’d eventually felt comfortable enough to open up while knowing Peter wouldn’t report him for speaking out of line. “I’m glad I met you.” Peter smiled a little more genuinely, but this it faltered immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Peter whispered, “You told me that boy’s name was Daniel Picah, right?” The boy nodded, furrowing his brows. “He’s dead. He was murdered by his master a few weeks ago, but I…didn’t want to tell you…”

The boy looked horrified. “I was sent here for nothing. He would’ve died here, which is why I took the blame. The fact that he was sent off to a family and was killed...” He let out a sound of fury that Peter had only heard once—when he’d spoken about his mother and what they went through before they were separated. “I didn’t want him to endure sexual slavery because I knew he wouldn’t survive. He didn’t deserve to die, Peter. He was a sweet, innocent boy… He also had…issues.” Peter’s brows furrowed as he wondered what the boy meant by that. “I don’t have the education you have, but I know something was mentally wrong. He could hardly function on his own and I was at his side for seven years to make sure the other boys didn’t beat him up.” Peter glanced at a scar on the boy’s chest that had come from him protecting the only friend he’d made before being transferred to the breeding grounds. “He was worth it, Peter. I wish you had the chance to meet him. I wanted him to live as freely as he could and I know he wanted the same for me. He just…couldn’t tell me that.”

“He was illiterate?”

Nodding, the boy whispered, “He couldn’t retain what they were teaching us. He was four when I met him and he was already severely traumatized. Whenever the woman who taught us said ‘red’ or ‘bed,’ he would scream and cry.” The boy frowned and Peter watched him cry in silence again. “I was eventually told that he was sexually abused. Red reminded him of blood. Bed reminded him of where he’d been hurt.”

Peter shifted and sat beside the boy, pulling him close to hold him. “I’m glad you were there to take care of him.”

“Look what good it did him,” he said angrily. “I’m a whore and he’s dead.” Peter didn’t know how to respond to any of this. He knew the boy was probably traumatized in his own way, but he never really showed it. “I’m always going to be a whore—a whore until the day I die.”

That angered Peter a great deal, but he wasn’t angry with the boy. He was pissed at the men who’d captured him and ended up sending him here. “You know you’re more than that…” The boy sighed and relaxed against Peter. “You know what I think.” The boy nodded and Peter felt compelled to kiss his hair. “You know I love you, Neal.”

“I do know that,” he whispered. “You respect me and do so many wonderful things for me. I know you can’t really express your feelings for me and I would never ask you to risk your life like that. I just hope you know how much I love you in return.” Peter rubbed Neal’s arm and nodded. “I know I can never belong to you romantically. I know you’ll never want me the way you would want a lover… I’m so far from being pure and I can’t imagine you’d want damaged goods.”

Peter, if this were anyone else, would’ve smacked him and asked him to stop saying things like that. The fact that Neal is a slave and was given orders to remain silent, open his mouth, swallow, beg, et cetera… The fact that he is a slave and had to take orders from disgusting men made him much more sensitive when it came to Neal. He’d only yelled at Neal once and it was because Neal refused to eat. That was the only time he’d ever seen Neal so afraid of him and he hadn’t raised his voice with Neal once since that day. “I love you. I know what’s been done to you and I wish I could get you out of here so you never have to give yourself to another ‘master.’ I still love you and, though I know it makes me disgusting as well, I’ve loved you since you were sixteen.”

Neal laughed quietly. “I’ve loved you since the night of the day I met you. You’re nothing like those animals, Peter. I fell in love with you because I knew then that you respect me and wouldn’t use me to ‘train’ me.” Peter made a disgusted sound. “You told me what other handlers have done to their slaves. I consider you to be a god because you’ve never once threatened me with sex or abuse. You’ve never touched me the way I’ve been touched.” He felt Peter’s fingers tighten around his arm and knew he was bringing Peter’s possessive nature to the forefront. Peter hated everyone who’s ever touched Neal and that meant a lot to the teenager. “You slept with me in this filthy shithole for several nights just to prove that you weren’t going to hurt me and that you were concerned about my…my injuries…”

“Neal, don’t undermine the pain you go through daily,” Peter whispered. “No amount of love and respect will heal what they’ve damaged.”

“My scars won’t heal,” Neal said softly, “but my heart is healing.” Peter glanced at him and he was tempted to kiss Neal for the first time. He hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in kissing Neal even though he desperately wanted to. He’d seen a handler fall in love with their slave and the slave gave their relationship away with a simple look. They’d both been murdered in front of all of the other handlers and their slaves. Neal, having been present for that, didn’t feel inclined to engage in any romantic gestures with Peter since beginning a ‘relationship’ with him. He didn’t want Peter to die and he knew he’d be forced to watch them kill Peter just to hear him scream one last time before they killed him as well. “Don’t. If I ever make it out of here, I’ll probably be sold to an addict. I’ll escape and find you. We can run away together—to a place where slaves are free.”

Peter sighed. “I wish I could free you. They’ll kill you if you escape a master, Neal, and you know that. You saw the same videos I saw.”

Neal frowned. “I know someone who can get the tracker out of my hip and the explosive out of my bicep.” Peter stared at him incredulously. “Another slave and I talked very briefly before we were both fucked by the same man. He’s been planning an escape and told me about a man named ‘Mozzie’ who usually lives in France. He forges identification for slaves that allows them to leave a slave-state and travel to freedom.” He seemed a little giddy as he talked to Peter and Peter wanted to find this man and allow Neal his freedom. “He’ll be in New York for another year or two and then he’ll have to move away for another year before he can attempt to come back. The masters and handlers here know about him and how he tries to save as many of us as he can.”

“Do you know for certain when he will leave New York?”

“Sometime in the summer.” He looked at Peter hopefully because he knew what Peter was thinking. “Please. I swear I’ll be good for you if you find him and get me out of here.” Peter’s brows furrowed and Neal looked a little hurt. “I…thought…you’d want to come with me if I’m freed.”

Peter frowned and Neal knew why. “Neal, I… I can’t just leave. I’ve fought so hard to keep my rights to visit my son. My ex-wife knows I’m gay and she tried to convert me to her heterosexuality, but she failed—even after Tyler was born.” He sounded so apologetic as he said, “I want to go with you, but I can’t just walk away from my son. He’s almost five and I’ve already missed too much of his life.”

“I understand,” Neal whispered.

Peter kissed his hair and thickly said, “I love you. I do love you, Neal, and I’d love nothing more than to live with you as a free man. If I didn’t have a son with a woman who despises my very being, you know I’d go with you in a heartbeat.” Neal wished Peter didn’t have a son to burden him and then he immediately regretted that thought.

Neal said, “I wouldn’t ask you to leave your son. I…know how painful it is to lose a parent and I don’t want your son to go through what I went through.” He hesitated before adding, “I know he isn’t going to be auctioned off or sold to a wealthy sex addict, but he still needs you. He needs his dad.”

“Like you needed your mom,” Peter whispered tentatively. Neal nodded against him. “I…could try to ask her to allow me to visit every so often. I want to be with you and she hates being around me and hates when I’m around my son.” Peter looked at the teenager and immediately shook himself out of his self-pity. “You wanted a shower. Let’s get you showered.”

Peter helped Neal stand and he could see just how filthy Neal was. He had every intention of going after Keller for this. There was blood between Neal’s legs and Peter knew what kind of animal Keller was. He knew Neal wanted a shower, a few moments to brush his teeth, and hopefully something to eat since he’d finally reached his ever-growing quota of ‘sex hours.’ Neal was good at what he does, unfortunately, and people requested him often. Peter vetted everyone as best he could before allowing anyone to take Neal into another room, too. His bosses realized Neal was bringing in a lot of business and they continued raising his quota without telling Neal, which meant Neal was starving since he was given nearly impossible expectations. He’d gotten three and a half hours with Keller the previous night—and that earned him twenty minutes into his next quota.

To Neal, that was a great start. To Peter, that was just awful because Neal had to sell off his body just so he could eat. That never stopped Peter from occasionally sneaking food into Neal’s cell though.

“Don’t look at me,” Neal pleaded, sounding embarrassed.

“I’m not letting him get away with what he did.” Neal nodded as Peter clipped a leash onto the ring at the front of his collar. It was just a formality between them during the day. Peter never used the leash when supervisors weren’t around and Neal appreciated that. Peter gently led him out of the cell and headed to the front desk at the end of the hall. “I’m taking him to the showers.” The woman nodded and asked him to sign a paper, which he did quickly. Before he led Neal to the showers, he firmly said, “Get that motherfucking janitor into my slave’s cell and tell him I’ll have the General make an example out of him if he doesn’t fucking clean that whole cell while I’m cleaning my slave.” The woman looked at Peter fearfully and nodded. Peter ranked higher than her and she knew she’d be in deep shit if she didn’t listen to him. “Tell him there had better not be a trace of blood, feces, or urine on the walls or the floor when I get back. The conditions he makes my slave live in are un-fucking-believable.”

“Yes, sir,” she said immediately, grabbing her phone to call for the janitor as Peter led Neal away from the desk.

Neal smiled a cute, little smile as he walked behind Peter. He loves the older man simply because Peter only uses his authority to demand that others make his living conditions better—and boy was Peter pissed when his demands weren’t met. “Do you want to shower yourself or would you prefer that I washed you?” He glanced over his shoulder and Neal gave him a look that he hoped Peter understood. “Not a problem, my love,” he whispered as quietly as he could.

Peter made sure they would have privacy as he switched the status on the door to occupied and locked it from the inside. He glanced at Neal’s backside and loathed Keller. Everyone knew most slaves were rectally scarred after being transported to the breeding grounds—and it only worsened as they were bred. Keller is fifteen years older than Neal and loved to watch him bleed, which is why Peter restricted him in the first place. No one was allowed to harm the slave more than the handler allowed. Keller just liked pushing the envelope whenever the opportunity arose.

“Knees?”

“No. You’re bruised.” Neal nodded and watched Peter grab a clean rag and soap to wash him with. He always checked things before using them and Neal also appreciated that. “Lean against the wall if you need to at any point.” He returned to unclip Neal’s leash and toss it aside. He also removed Neal’s collar since it was only allowed during showers. Neal’s neck was pale and a little dirty, but it wasn’t as bad as other slaves’ necks.

Neal moved to stand under the spray and he startled because the water was cold. “Peter,” he said fearfully. Cold water terrified him and Peter knew exactly why.

“Fuck,” Peter snarled as he quickly rectified the problem. “I’m sorry.” He reached out to test the water and nodded at Neal after rubbing his back soothingly. “I promise it’s okay now.” Neal swallowed and moved to stand under the spray again. Peter never lied to him and Neal loved that about him. He watched Peter go about cleaning him and Neal loved how Peter’s wet clothing conformed to his toned body. Even the bulge he spotted made him smile to himself.

Neal let Peter clean him in silence and he watched everything Peter did. It was habitual since the first time he’d been abused in a setting that included water and he couldn’t stop now. “I’m sorry for my reaction.”

Peter shook his head and slid his right hand up and down Neal’s slick back. “I understand,” he whispered. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“It’s been four years.”

“And I know it traumatized you,” Peter said quietly. “I would be afraid, too, if I were you.” Neal frowned even as Peter rubbed over his stomach, which he absolutely loved. “I’ve never seen another handler take someone else’s slave. As soon as I heard your scream, I broke that damn door down and made sure they could never do that to you again.” Neal closed his eyes as he remembered the first night he’d spent at the breeding grounds after he’d been bred brutally by the breeder ‘specialists.’ He’d just met Peter and didn’t trust him at all. Peter left him alone because he needed to do some things that were work-related, but someone knew the code to his cell and managed to take him down to the pool. The pool was meant for the handlers to use for their relaxation, but it was closed and the men who grabbed him tried to shut him up as he screamed for ‘master.’

Peter watched Neal and knew he was reliving the moment. He felt awful about what happened, but he earned Neal’s trust that night.

Neal had been raped by five men on the floor beside the pool and then two of them decided to take him into the pool. Since he hadn’t been in a bath or pool before that night, the water frightened him. It’d been freezing and they had sex with him in the water. When they realized he was bleeding, they beat him and insulted him profusely before ‘teasing’ him by shoving him under the water and holding him under as he writhed around in an attempt to free himself.

He’d only been fourteen and those men were in their thirties and forties at the time, plus he was outnumbered. Whenever he’d been pulled up by his hair, he screamed ‘master’ as loud as he could until they shoved him under again. He thought he was going to die that night until he heard his master come to his rescue. Peter had gotten a gun that night and shot the two men in the water who’d been raping and attempting to drown him. The others left quickly and Neal never saw them again.

Neal didn’t know how to swim and he almost drowned, especially after seeing the two dead men floating beside him. Peter immediately dove in, grabbed him, and pulled him over to the side to lift him up and out of the water. He hadn’t been able to let go of Peter because Peter was the first man who’d come to his rescue when he screamed for help.Others laughed at him and never stopped his torment. Peter though, he hadn’t hesitated to kill the men who abused his slave.

“What did you think when you saw what they were doing to me?” he asked curiously.

Peter gently slid his hand over Neal’s backside and rubbed his ass gently because he knew how much Neal had been hurt that night. “I was furious. I saw red and wanted to make them pay. It wasn’t because you’re my slave and they had no right to touch you. It was because you were a child and I never, ever wanted someone to rape you as you were raped in the van. They were doing exactly that—with the addition of scaring the living hell out of you.” Neal looked at Peter’s face and saw the despair there. “That night is exactly why I forged your hours for two years. I didn’t like the fact that my ‘handling’ was questioned when you turned sixteen and I had to actually bring men in to fuck you, but they…” He realized how selfish he’d been, and yet he claimed to love Neal.

“You knew they’d kill you if they found out you didn’t let me ‘learn’ how to please a master for two years.” Peter didn’t respond at all, but Neal knew he was right. “I was able to heal for two years, Peter. You cared for me, let me speak freely, and you were there for me through my nightmares. You were there to love me without telling me you loved me.” Peter thought about kissing Neal’s neck or shoulder, but he knew there were cameras in the showers. They weren’t recording audio, but he didn’t want anyone to think he fell in love with his slave. Instead, Peter went back to cleaning him. “If I escape, would you want to live your life with me?”

“Yes,” Peter said without hesitation.

Neal’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled while looking away from the camera. He leaned against the wall when Peter crouched behind him to clean his ass and legs. “Would you ever have sex with me?” Peter froze before he touched Neal’s ass and Neal knew he’d made Peter uncomfortable. “What did you call it? ‘Making love’?” Peter nodded silently. “Would you make love to me?”

Peter didn’t respond right away because he wanted to consider Neal’s reaction to whatever he was going to say aloud. “I’m…afraid to consider it because I know how much they’ve hurt you internally. I don’t want to do what they did—or make it worse.” Neal looked at him and Peter could just feel Neal’s love for him.

“Peter, have you ever looked at the videos of them fucking me?” Peter made a disgusted sound and Neal wasn’t sure if he should take offense to that. “Watch the one with Malik. He’s the one who tore me up and made me bleed badly when I was seventeen.” Peter remembered coming into Neal’s cell the next morning to find him in a pool of blood that no one bothered to help him with. That was when Peter became furious with medical aides who were supposed to treat slaves when they returned to their cells. Neal had never once been treated to this day and Peter hated the way things ‘worked’ in this hellhole. “Watch him fuck me. That is how you rip me up and make me bleed.”

“Why the hell would I want to watch someone do that to you?”

“So you know you’re not capable of doing that,” Neal said fiercely. “I know you. I know you’d never do that. If I asked you to stop, I know you would. He didn’t listen to me and so I bled—a lot. I trust you and know you won’t put me through that again.”

Peter nodded. As much as he didn’t want to touch the stack of DVDs he’d been given as recordings of men fucking his slave, he’d watch this one since Neal asked him to. “If I ever make love to you, I’d stop immediately if I so much as hurt you even a little upon attempting to thrust into you.” Neal nodded because he believed that.

As soon as Neal was cleaned, Peter put his collar on and clipped the leash to it, leading him out of the showers and back to the desk so he could sign his name to confirm that he’d returned Neal to his cell after showering him. Anger was boiling within Peter as he led Neal back to the cell. He hoped to God that it was cleaned because he didn’t want Neal getting sick. Neal hated the smell of his cell or of his own body and Peter knew that.

When they’d gotten into the cell, Peter made an impressed sound. The cell looked wonderful now. “Thank you,” Neal whispered as Peter removed his leash. “I love you.”

Peter quickly shut the cell door and gave Neal a look before whispering, “I love you, too, but please be careful when you tell me that. I don’t want someone to overhear you, report you, and hang you.” Neal swallowed hard. “Slaves are the ones who suffer. I’d only be shot to death. You’ll be hanged until you break your neck.” Neal’s hands flew up to his neck and Peter felt guilty when he saw the fear in Neal’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve had nightmares. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want you to die.”

Neal looked surprised. “You’ve had nightmares…about me?”

“I love you,” Peter insisted, “so of course I’ll have nightmares. I worry about you when I’m not here. I worry about what happens to you when you’re in those fucking rooms.” Literally—that’s what they were called. “Why do you think I show up at five in the morning to interrogate whoever was on duty?” Neal gave him a small, appreciative smile. “You and my son are the only reasons I have for living. If I didn’t have you or Tyler, I would’ve killed myself. My parents and ex-wife found out about my sexuality and she made my life hell. My parents supported me, much to my surprise, but I wanted to kill myself until I found out she was pregnant—with my child.”

Neal gave him a fearful look before whispering, “Could you bring in pictures of him? I’ve…never seen what your son looks like.” Peter smiled softly at him and nodded. “I wish I could meet him.”

Peter was quiet for a moment. “I could take you off of the grounds for a little while. They’ll be tracking you, but I can take you out for a nice meal and introduce you to my little Ty-fighter.” Neal smiled because he knew Peter was making a joke. Though he never watched a movie—aside from the videos he’d watched of slaves and handlers being murdered—he understood the reference since Peter explained it to him before. “The day you’re freed, we’re watching _Star Wars_ together.” Neal chuckled and nodded. He didn’t mind that at all. “Ty loves watching them with me. He likes the sounds and the visual stimulation.”

“He sounds like he’s definitely your kid,” Neal said softly. Peter grinned at him. “I love you and I’d love to meet him, but don’t get into trouble with your ex-wife or with your bosses. I’m content with seeing a picture if I can’t actually meet him.”

Peter waved off his concerns. “I’ll get you out of here to meet him. As much as I’d love to smuggle you away, I don’t want to risk your life. I’ll figure something out to free you permanently before I consider doing anything that they could track.” He had every intention of searching out this ‘Mozzie’ character so he could have Neal’s tracker and explosive removed carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was take Neal out with the intention of freeing him—to watch him explode.

When Peter shuddered, Neal was concerned. “What’s wrong?” Peter shook his head and Neal rested his hand over Peter’s heart, whispering, “Please don’t hide things from me… That’s all I’m asking. If you can’t or won’t free me, that’s okay. Just please don’t hide things from me.”

Sighing, the older man whispered, “You know me and my worst case scenarios…” Neal gave him a half smile because he did understand. “I’m not being tracked and no one has a reason to watch me. I’ll look for this guy who might be able to help us.” Neal’s eyes lit up at that, which thrilled Peter even though it depressed him at the same time. No eighteen year old should have to grow up as a slave and be absolutely excited over the prospect of finally gaining his freedom. “As soon as I know he can help us, I’ll get a plan together and we’ll get you the fuck out of this shitty place.”

Neal asked, “Will you make plans to leave with me or are you sending me away alone?” Peter hesitated and the light in Neal’s eyes began to fade. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll figure things out with my ex and my son before I say anything to get your hopes up. Just…know that I want to go with you. I’ll do whatever I possibly can to free you and start a life with you.” Neal didn’t hesitate to hug him and Peter sighed contentedly as he held his younger lover. “If I have to leave this life behind, I’ll do it.” Neal slid his hand up and down Peter’s back, silently expressing his love and appreciation for Peter. “For you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see you happy.” One thing he knew he needed to do for certain was get his nearly anorexic lover some decent food since he’d _earned_ it… Even though his first thoughts revolved around feeding Neal, he kissed Neal’s temple and whispered, “I’m going to start by freeing you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You and your whore seem to be getting very close lately.” Peter didn’t even look at the other man. He didn’t have to answer to this man because this man was from a different slave compound. The breeding grounds were separate from auctions, training zones, and processing. Slaves began in processing to retain their identity or they were assigned a number. Based on what he’d gotten out of Neal, Neal was five when he was brought in. His mother hadn’t claimed that he was alive until the masters came for her and found him. He was old enough to know his name, so he was allowed to keep it if he chose to. Some of the masters called him a whore and others called him E-thirty-five. The ‘E’ stood for the compound owner’s surname, which was _Ellis_ in Neal’s case, and the thirty-five meant he’d been the thirty-fifth slave to be processed in that processing compound. Peter looked into it and realized it’d been fairly new when Neal had been taken away from his mother.

After slaves were processed and given a name or number, they were then sent to the training compounds where they were educated enough to understand basic language and commands and taught to do household tasks. It was absolutely illegal for anyone under the age of thirteen to be sent to the breeding grounds, but children between five and twelve were taught as though they were going to eventually be sold off to a family. Neal was unique because he’d learned more than he should have and conversed very well considering the mentality of a normal slave was that they were born to serve, not to speak. Even though he’d been five when he was brought in, the ‘teachers’ were meant to regress the children’s education and brainwash them until they were conditioned to remain silent unless they were given permission to speak. It seemed like Neal’s ‘teacher’ had chosen to disobey that particular command to destroy the minds of these children.

When the children were adequately trained, they were sent to the auctioneers in various locations based on their skills. Families and couples purchased slaves most of the time. Individuals didn’t tend to purchase a slave. The majority of individuals who wanted a slave bought sex slaves. While some children made it through training and were sent to the auctioneers, others who hadn’t adequately performed during the training period were sent to the breeding grounds as long as they were thirteen or older. The breeding grounds were considered another kind of training compound with much harsher consequences and an unfavorable outlook. Being a sex slave was nothing to be proud of when you were a young slave.

Children who were auctioned off ended there since they would be taken by a family or couple. Those who ended up at the breeding grounds were trained until they were twenty or twenty-one and then they were put on display for masters who desired someone who would pleasure them. Those who went to the auctioneers were allowed to wear clothing with their families. Sex slaves were forbidden—by law—to ever be dressed. Once they were in the back of the van, clothes were never necessary again.

“He’s my slave,” Peter eventually said. “Of course he and I are close. I handle him and sign him over to anyone who wants him.” He hated talking about Neal like this, but he needed to keep up the appearance of a hard-ass master when he was around other handlers or his supervisors. “I just make sure he’s cleaned up and fixed up so he can perform properly for the next breeder.”

The man looked at him skeptically and Peter wished he would just go away. He was trying to get paperwork done for a slave who’d been purchased and this man was dragging out his disgust by delaying his work. “I’ve been watching you and your whore for the last month and a half, Burke. I’ve debated on setting up a camera in his cell to see why you spend so much time in there with him.”

Peter felt sick as he said, “I breed him, sir. That’s why he’s so good at what he does. He performs fabulously for me and I’m glad he’s pleasuring others just as well.” The other man seemed like he was satisfied with that response and Peter was relieved. He didn’t want someone to question how close he and Neal are. If they were scrutinized, he wouldn’t be allowed to visit Neal as often as he does. They could sit in there for hours and talk to each other or they would eat together if Peter snuck dinner in. His supervisors would probably reprimand the hell out of him for feeding his slave when he hadn’t _earned_ that right to eat.

“I was under the impression that breeders bred their slaves in ways that made their slaves audible—even through these thick, hard walls.” Peter knew that was true. He’d heard it when he was working in the hallway at times and he knew Neal heard it at times, too. Early on, Neal was always afraid that Peter would use him and make him scream, cry, and plead for more that he honestly didn’t want. Neal eventually learned that those handlers were the monsters and that Peter had no intention of doing that to him.

Peter smirked and said, “Ever hear of training a silent whore?” The man nodded. “He knows when he’s allowed to scream if a breeder tells him to do so. I force him to remain silent. If he screams, I fuck him harder. If he whimpers, I fuck him harder.” The man looked very impressed even though Peter was on the very brink of getting sick just thinking about that visualization. He could imagine that Neal went through that with the breeders in the van four years ago. There had been six of them, so he couldn’t imagine what they did to Neal. Neal had been a virgin at the time and he probably didn’t know he was going to be raped so he’d be ready after the drive to the grounds. Peter didn’t like thinking about it and Neal never felt inclined to open up about it. Just seeing that Neal was roughed up and bleeding because he was a virgin who was brutalized told him that Neal went through a horrific six hour long ride in the van. “He’s good for me. I reward him by allowing him to orgasm once every now and then.”

The man smirked at him. “I think I may have to try him out since you speak so highly of him.” Peter forced himself to nod as though he’d approve it. He’d warn Neal in advance that this man had very awful things in mind. Fortunately, Neal did know how to remain silent if it were demanded of him. Well, it was only fortunate because he would be able to do what Peter said he taught Neal.

Unfortunately, the man wanted Neal—and he wanted him now. As soon as Peter entered the cell, Neal perked up. When Peter shut the door quickly, he knew something was wrong. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up,” he said apologetically as he tentatively reached out to lift Neal’s leash off of the hook. Neal’s brows furrowed as he stared up at his lover. “A man who’s in charge of another compound questioned me about us. I lied and told him I…fucked you a lot when I’m in here…” Neal looked a little hurt by that, but he understood that Peter was trying to save both of their asses—not just his own. “I swear I’ll…try to make it up to you later. He’s…not going to be as kind as Vincent is.” Vincent was another breeder who frequently requested Neal because he was impressed by Neal. He wasn’t the best sexual partner either because he was rough, but he was a step up from Keller.

“It’s okay,” Neal said quietly. He stood up and grabbed his leash out of Peter’s trembling hands to attach it to his own collar. “What is he expecting of me?”

“Silence,” Peter whispered. “He wants to get rough with you, but I bragged about how silent you are since no one hears you and it backfired.” Neal gave Peter a sympathetic look because he knew how much Peter was beating himself up right now. Peter loves him deeply and never, ever liked allowing anyone to use Neal’s body for their entertainment. It was an unfortunate part of his job, but it kept them together nonetheless. “I’m so sorry. I know it won’t help, but I’ll bring your favorite dinner and some wine.”

Neal shook his head. “You owe me nothing,” Neal said softly as he lifted his hand to stroke the side of Peter’s face. “I’m a whore, Peter, and you know that as well as I do. This is part of what we both have to do. You handle me and give me to others for training and I try to do the best that I can so nothing ever comes back on us.” He gave Peter a gentle smile because he knew they didn’t have much time together before Peter had to give him away to this man. “I owe you everything after all of the things you’ve done for me.” Peter hated when he said things like that, but he meant it. “I had two years between losing my virginity and having sex with another man. I only had those two years because you protected me. You could have been caught and killed for protecting me, but you managed to forge two years’ worth of sex hours for my quotas so I could eat every day.”

Peter looked at him miserably as he rested his hand over Neal’s hip—the hip that didn’t have a tracker in it. “I love you so much and I feel terrible.”

“I love you, too. Get me out there before he starts to think something’s going on. You’re the one who knows when I’ll be back since you approved his request.”

“Two hours,” Peter whispered.

Neal nodded. “I will see you in two hours then. Please don’t beat yourself up—for me, please. I try not to beg you, but I’m begging you to just…let this go. Let this go and play your part as my master.” He knew Peter wouldn’t be able to let it go. Thinking Peter would be all right with this and that it wouldn’t affect their relationship was wishful thinking. “I love you so much, Peter. We’ll talk more when I come back, okay?” Peter nodded silently. His eyes held so much sadness and regret within them, so Neal knew he had to get this moving along so Peter wasn’t put at risk. He put the end of his leash in Peter’s hand and moved to open the door a bit before stepping behind Peter.

Peter led him out of the cell reluctantly and Neal saw the man waiting for them at the end of the hall. Neal unintentionally froze up and Peter stopped when he realized he was tugging on Neal—who wasn’t moving. He gave Neal a questioning look and then he knew what was wrong. Neal recognized that man—somehow.

“Come on,” he said urgently, attempting to sound fierce as he yanked on Neal’s leash. Neal snapped out of his fearful trance and looked at Peter. He communicated that this man had done something terrible to him in the past just by looking at Peter with tears in his eyes. Peter’s heart was breaking as he looked at Neal. He glanced over at the man and said, “Is there a reason my slave should be afraid of you? You’ve never requested him for sex, but he seems to know you.” The man pursed his lips and took a step forward. He smirked when Neal scrambled to move back a step of his own. Peter looked at Neal concernedly before turning to glare at the other man. “How does my slave know you?”

“He doesn’t. I think it’s just the fact that he knows he’s getting a few extra hours in for his quota. That’s how they all are.” Not Neal. Peter knew Neal wasn’t like that. Neal went willingly with anyone Peter allowed because he wanted to fill his quota. The fact that he was hesitating meant this man had done something significantly traumatizing or harmful to Neal. “Come on, whore. You won’t get to eat at this rate.”

Neal swallowed hard and Peter watched him cry silently. Neal never did this before and it continued to break his heart to see Neal so upset even though Neal wasn’t allowed to speak. “Tell me how you know him, whore,” he growled, trying to make it seem convincing. Neal was staring at him as though he were too afraid to answer Peter. “I am your _master._ You _will_ tell me how you know this man.”

The young man swallowed again and croaked, “He’s my first master and...father.” Peter’s eyes widened. The two of them had different surnames and Neal’s father hadn’t been listed on any documents.

Peter spun to look at the other man and snarled, “Are you?” The man didn’t answer and Peter knew that was answer enough. He wrapped Neal’s leash around his hand and tugged him along as he approached the desk with all of the paperwork for sex hours. He grabbed the paper he’d signed to allow Neal to spend two hours with this man and tore it up. “I don’t give a damn, General Bennett,” he snapped as the other man stared at him incredulously. “We may allow men to take our slaves for sexual purposes, but it is absolutely _forbidden_ for a family member to come here for incestuous reasons.” It was forbidden for family members to come here regardless. Anyone who had the potential to break a slave out of the compound was forbidden from entering. Relationships past and current, children, parents, and ‘friends’ or acquaintances of the slave were not allowed to set foot in the area. The other man tried to advance on Peter and Peter ended up releasing Neal’s leash so he could shove the other man away.

Neal knew he could use this opportunity to run, but he didn’t want to die. He knew his father hadn’t come for sexual purposes. His father more than likely wanted to get him out of here and Neal absolutely refused to go with this man. His mother had always been a slave and she was a household turned sex slave who’d been forced off of her contraceptives, which is how Neal had been conceived. She’d attempted to run away and he prevented her from ever leaving. In fact, he was the one who hadn’t registered Neal as a slave even though he was obligated to do so. If a sex slave were male and had a child with a female master, the child was born free. If the master were male and the slave were female, that child was born a slave. Neal was born a slave, but Bennett hadn’t registered him as such.

Peter was fighting Bennett off and Neal was afraid for Peter. He and his mother had suffered at Bennett’s hands when he was young. He hadn’t talked about his father because Peter didn’t ask. As far as Peter knew, he assumed Neal didn’t know who his father was. He and his mother were abused by him. James Bennett wasn’t a good man. Considering his position in the slave trade, he should have reported Neal’s birth as slave-born and put him into the system himself. He failed to report Neal’s birth at all and then he’d tried to train Neal to obey him as Neal’s mother obeyed him. Neal, as an infant and toddler, hadn’t listened to a word his father said and was constantly beaten.

When Neal’s mother jumped into the fray and tried to protect him, his beatings were worse and she was beaten as well. He could remember calling his father ‘master’ because he hadn’t been taught to call that man his father—even though he knew that James is his father. He could remember his mother screaming ‘master’ as she tried to stop James from beating him and he remembered lying in his bed as he cried silently and listened to his parents have sex in the other room. He even made her call him ‘master’ in bed.

Neal knew James wasn’t going to have sex with him. James was going to break him out and ‘free’ him just enough. He knew he wouldn’t be given the ultimate freedom he desired if he went with his father. James would take him home and make him his personal slave. He knew he’d be beaten by James again—even if he listened as he was conditioned to by his former trainers and current breeders. Peter never once struck him and he knew staying here in this hell with a master who doesn’t abuse him was far better than going home with a man he knew was his father, a man who would treat him like the slave he is and make his life miserable.

James punched Peter and Neal refocused on the fight in front of him when he heard the pained sound Peter made before snarling and charging back at James. Neal glanced down the hallway and saw two of the guards stationed there. They were slaves who had been recruited for the sole basis of protecting masters from slave revolts. They were given luxuries that sex slaves and domestic slaves didn’t have, so none of them were inclined to break out of their obedient nature.

Knowing that he was going to suffer for this in the end, Neal screamed, “Help! Help! My master is being hurt!” He tried not to use complex language. He dumbed himself down outside of his cell.

Peter spun to look at him with wide eyes. Even though Neal was defending him, Neal hadn’t been given permission to cry out for help.

The guards came running and separated Peter and James quickly while holding their weapons in James’s direction. “What the hell is all of this commotion?” Peter closed his eyes as he thanked God for sending General Hughes to the section. “Burke, what’s going on?”

“This man,” he snarled, pointing at James accusingly, “is my slave’s father. He signed him out for two hours of sex work and my slave reacted fearfully.” Hughes stared at Bennett as though the man were crazy.

“I’m requesting a blood test immediately,” Hughes said firmly, glancing at the medical aide who had just arrived. “If you’re his father, you can’t come back into this compound. Whether or not he’s your son, you’re on his restricted list considering the way you just assaulted his handler.” Peter wasn’t looking at Neal, but Neal could see that Peter’s cheekbone was bruised. He bit his lip and blinked back tears. He felt like he should have fought his father to protect Peter, but instinct told him he’d be killed instantly for attacking a man who is both a General and master.

The medical aide already had Neal’s DNA on file, so she escorted James away from the section in order to get the necessary sample of DNA from him to compare to Neal. “I can’t believe he thought he could waltz in here and attempt to fuck his own son—knowing that’s his own son.”

Hughes looked disturbed by that as well and that was surprising considering the profession and work environment he’d chosen. He ran this place—and he ran it well. No one had escaped in well over twenty years. “Burke, did you give your slave permission to speak?” Peter’s unintentional delay to respond gave away the fact that Neal hadn’t been given permission to speak. Both men looked at Neal and Neal could see the regret and apology in Peter’s eyes. “Despite doing what was best for his master, we can’t allow a slave to get away with free speech. Other slaves will think they can do so as well.”

Neal blinked back tears because he knew how severe this would be now that his punishment was being requested by the General. It’d been simple beatings by other masters before, but the General had disobedient slaves whipped. “General,” Peter said quickly. “Can we reward him just this once? He doesn’t speak out without being given permission often enough to be troublesome and he called for help. He wanted someone to help me. How can we punish him for speech when he did it to protect his master?” Hughes stared at Peter critically and Neal silently prayed that Peter had just saved his ass—literally. He’d seen how other slaves were whipped. There were slashes on their backs, ass, and the backs of their thighs. He honestly didn’t want to be scarred more than he already was. He was scarred internally and he had a scar on his chest already and he didn’t feel compelled to act brazen so he could earn more ‘love scars’ like the slave who was most disobedient in this section. “How can we punish him if he protected his master? He could have let me take a beating or he could’ve run in an attempt to escape.” Hughes glanced at Neal now and he could see that Neal didn’t want to be punished. “He didn’t try to escape and he didn’t watch in silence as his master was hurt.”

Sighing in frustration, Hughes looked at Peter. “I’ll let you have your way just this once because he does so damn well for us as a business.” Neal felt disgusted by that. That was essentially his way of saying Neal’s the biggest whore on the compound. Looking at Neal irritably, he added, “I think you broke your own slave, Burke. Whatever you did, keep it up.” Neal had been resistant when he was sixteen because he’d gone two years without being used by the breeders. Peter’s love for him and his anxiety regarding Peter’s life and all of the risks Peter’s taken for him had ‘broken’ him. He stopped fighting back when a master told him Peter might be killed for not handling him properly prior to signing him out to a breeder. He figured it was just easier to go, get fucked, and earn his right to eat.

Peter was relieved when Hughes left without another word. There were cameras in the hallway, so Peter approached Neal, grabbed his leash, and led him back into the cell. As soon as the door was closed, both men thanked each other and then stared at each other in surprise.

Neal hesitated and then he threw his arms around Peter and breathed shakily. “You just saved me from being whipped.” Peter held him and kissed his hair. That was Hughes’ typical punishment for disobedient slaves, so he tried to convince Hughes that Neal didn’t deserve punishment. Peter, as he was holding Neal against him, felt Neal’s lips on his neck. He knew they had to be very careful about how affectionate they were because he didn’t want either of them to die.

At first, Peter didn’t want to stop Neal’s gentle kisses. He was only kissing Peter’s neck, so it wasn’t that bad… Then Neal’s kisses became desperate and traveled up to his jaw. Peter felt Neal’s erection since they were pressed together and he was sure Neal felt him. He wanted so badly to let Neal have his way with him—to give Neal a choice for once to do something he wanted to do rather than something he was told to do. Peter’s biggest concern was that Neal would get too accustomed to this behavior and he’d end up slipping up at some point in front of one person who shouldn’t have seen them acting romantically. As soon as he made Neal a free man, he wouldn’t control Neal at all. Neal could choose to continue loving him or to love someone else. Peter had every intention of sending Neal to France because it was something he talked about because he’d seen it in a master’s book once. “Neal,” he pleaded. “Neal, we can’t…” Neal stopped immediately and tensed. Peter felt sick because he didn’t want to do this to Neal. He didn’t want to be Neal’s master and control when Neal could or couldn’t show him affection. “I want to, but we can’t.”

“Why?” Neal growled. He didn’t back away from Peter, but Peter could both feel and hear him breathing heavily. “Why won’t you let me do this?”

Closing his eyes as he rested his hand on Neal’s lower back, he whispered, “You saw what they did to Jacob and Riley. I’m not concerned about myself, Neal. They’ll make you suffer—and it kills me to just think about your final moments being so soon and so painful.” Neal sighed angrily. “I love you, Neal. I just don’t want you to die. I don’t want you to suffer.”

Neal rested his head on Peter’s shoulder and held him lovingly. “Someday…” he whispered.

Peter nodded. “Someday,” he said, reiterating Neal’s hopes. “I haven’t had a chance to search for that guy yet. My ex has been giving me hell and she’s turning Ty against me.” Neal backed up a little to look at Peter sadly. He frowned at the teenager and sighed, closing his eyes. Neal slid his left hand up and down Peter’s back, hoping he’d get Peter to open up a little. “I visited him two days after I brought pictures of him in for you to see. Everything was wonderful until I asked her if I could have a father-son day with Tyler. That was the day I’d get you out of here for a little while.” Neal nodded. He knew Peter wanted to take him outside. He hadn’t seen the outside world in four years. All he’s seen were the rooms he was used in and his own cell—among a few other sections of this building. “She accused me of wanting to molest him because she wanted to know why I wouldn’t let her tag along.”

“What did you tell her?” Neal asked curiously.

“…I want Tyler to meet my boyfriend.” Neal’s eyes widened because it was the first time Peter actually acknowledged that they’re boyfriends using the actual terminology. “She said a bunch of homophobic things and I just sat there and listened to her spew things at me until she was breathless. Needless to say, her homophobic rant was overheard by my son and he started repeating some of the things she said.” Neal’s lips parted as he stared at the older man. “I told her to forget it and we didn’t speak until…last night.” Neal remained silent because he wanted to know what happened without demanding that his master and boyfriend tell him. “She was drunk out of her mind and got into a car accident. Tyler is staying with my parents while I’m working and I was thinking about going to see them this weekend with Tyler since I’ve been a little distant from everyone in my personal life—my personal life outside of here.”

Neal nodded and whispered, “You should. You need time with your family—away from all of…this.” Peter gave him a look that Neal couldn’t decipher. “Peter, I—”

“Will you come with me? My ex is in the hospital and will be for a little while, so she doesn’t control what I do right now. My parents don’t exactly like her, so they’ll just say I didn’t visit Tyler at all.” Neal gave him a small smile. “I talk about you all the time, so they want to know who this mystery man in my life is.”

Just as Neal was going to excitedly respond to the fact that Peter talks about him so much, he realized something. “Peter, I can’t…” he whispered solemnly. “I…have no clothes.” Peter’s eyes widened as he realized that as well. He sees Neal naked on daily basis and it’d become normal. Working in this awful place for six years made seeing naked slaves a norm.

Peter nodded. “I’ll buy some for you.” Neal looked absolutely despaired by that and Peter didn’t understand why. Neal never complained when Peter bought cards to play games or some other kind of entertainment. “What’s wrong?”

“You try going nine years without wearing clothing and tell me how you feel,” he snapped. He hadn’t meant to snap and he immediately stepped away from Peter. Even though Peter never hurt him, Peter is still his master and he knew he didn’t have the right to snap at his master—even if Peter gave him as much freedom as he could.

All Peter did was give Neal a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t take into account the fact that it’s been so long since you’ve worn clothing.” His face heated up as he whispered, “I’m so used to just…seeing you. I kind of tend to forget that you’re naked.”

Neal raised an eyebrow. “You forget that I’m naked? How is that even possible?”

“I’m too afraid to consider anything sexual with you and I try not to excite myself with sexual thoughts about you, which means I try to avoid looking at something other than your face—unless you’re hurt. It’s different when you’re hurt because I feel this need to take care of you no matter what happened.” Neal wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He suddenly felt very inadequate. He’d always believed Peter was sexually attracted to him, but he didn’t realize Peter tried his hardest to contain that attraction. Perhaps it wasn’t so hard because he honestly isn’t sexually appealing.

Peter’s brows furrowed as Neal silently cried in front of him. “How can you have any attraction to me at all? I look like I’m dying—or already dead,” he said thickly.

“I’m not the kind of man who’s solely attracted to someone’s looks, Neal. Your heart and soul are absolutely and equally beautiful.”

Neal laughed mirthlessly as he looked at the older man. “Those will probably pop through my skin just like my ribs are right now.” Peter’s lips parted as he looked so hurt by what Neal said about himself. Peter wasn’t the one being insulted, but he clearly didn’t like hearing Neal say things like this. “I’m disgusting. How the hell can anyone love fucking me if I look like this? Am I really just a hole for them?”

The older man didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t know what those men thought of Neal. Of course some of them probably did think of Neal as a hole for them to stuff themselves into. None of them were romantically attracted to Neal like he is. “I’m so sorry…”

Shaking his head as the tears continued sliding down his face, Neal whispered, “I should know better. I’m a slave, so of course I’m just a hole. I’m not a human being. That’s why they call me a bitch, a whore, a slut, a—”

“Please stop,” Peter pleaded. “I don’t like hearing you say those things about yourself. You are a human being and you’re not—”

“I’m a whore, Peter.” Peter silenced himself immediately. “You can’t tell me I’m not. If I weren’t a whore, I wouldn’t be in the breeding grounds. I wouldn’t be placed in a section that is literally named ‘Whoreway.’” Peter blinked back tears of his own as he listened to how bitter Neal sounded. He understood to an extent, but he wished Neal didn’t have to live like this. “It’s no wonder they like fucking me without looking at my face. I’m not a human being. I am simply just a hole for men to shove their dicks into so they can get themselves off.”

Peter shook his head because he didn’t see Neal in that light. He didn’t think of Neal as a whore despite the fact that Neal’s logic was pretty damn accurate. “I need to get you out,” he said thickly. “I can’t let you live like this anymore.” Neal looked at him confusedly. “You can’t see yourself the way I see you. That’s not how you deserve to live.” As soon as the first tear escaped Peter’s eyes, Neal dropped to his knees in front of Peter, surprising the other man as he bowed his head and rested his hands in his lap. “What the hell are you doing? Neal, get up.”

Neal couldn’t. He’d upset his master—and he’d upset him to the point where he was crying. Granted, it was one tear, but it struck something within Neal. His childhood was affecting his life several years later and he felt like he should’ve lost these habits when he met Peter four years ago. There had never been a time when Peter demanded that he get on his knees in front of him.

“I’m sorry, master,” Neal said thoughtlessly. It was how he’d spoken to his father—and to the men who fucked him and were disappointed by him for one reason or another.

Peter stared at him incredulously. This was part of Neal’s early conditioning and he realized that. God… It was going to take a long time for him to reverse all of Neal’s instinctual reactions. “Neal, you’re with Peter,” he whispered as he dropped to his own knees in front of Neal. He leveled himself with his younger lover and watched him. “You’re with me, Neal.” He reached out to stroke Neal’s hair and Neal immediately lifted his head, staring at Peter sadly. “Your father did this to you, didn’t he?” Neal nodded silently. Peter sighed quietly and whispered, “Someday… Someday, you’re going to realize that you’re not a slave to me. I don’t want to own you, Neal. I want to love you—the young _man_ I’m looking at in front of me.” He continued stroking Neal’s hair and said, “You’re not an animal. You may be forced to live in a cage-like cell, but you’re not an animal. You’re as human as I am. You just…didn’t receive the same treatment or ‘privilege’ I did.”

The younger man whispered, “I’m eighteen years old and I’ve been doing this, acting like the slave I am, since I was about three. I don’t know if it’s honestly possible for me to feel human.”

Peter lowered his hand and took both of Neal’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers. “When we’re together, basking in your freedom, I will help you unlearn everything you’ve learned throughout your life. I will help you recognize your own humanity, your own worth.” Neal gave him a small, grateful smile. “When you’re free, I refuse to let you put yourself down like this.” He leaned forward and risked a kiss to Neal’s forehead. “When you’re free, everything is going to change, Neal. Your entire world will be turned inside out. I can guarantee you that your life will be different as a free man and I’m going to do anything I can to get you out of this hell.”

The one thing Neal was focused on was that Peter was serious about helping him escape from this life of sexual slavery because he’d said ‘when’ rather than ‘if.’


	3. Chapter 3

Peter rushed down to the makeshift emergency room on the breeding grounds. It was three in the morning and he’d gotten a frantic call from Jones, informing him that Neal was on the very brink of death after being gang raped. No one realized it was going to happen and, typically, it wasn’t even allowed unless the slaves were owned outside of the grounds. If the sex slave were a personal sex slave, the master could do whatever they pleased. The breeding grounds owned these slaves—Neal in particular—until they were purchased. Peter had gone home hours earlier with the promise that he’d be back in a matter of hours to spend time with him before someone came in and requested him.

Needless to say, he didn’t think he’d be frantically running to find his lover near death in a poor excuse for a hospital room. As he burst through the doors to the final hallway, he could hear Neal screaming for him. He was screaming for his master. Fortunately for Neal, slaves weren’t allowed to be beaten in the hospital section. He was in agony and wanted his master at his side. “ _Master!_ ” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Rounding the final corner, Peter darted into the room his lover was in and watched in horror as Neal writhed around on the hospital bed he was restrained to. He looked like he was in severe pain. He was sweating heavily and crying. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fingers into fists. He kept screaming, so Peter quickly approached him, resting his hand over Neal’s heart as he’d done so many times during periods in which Neal was having horrible nightmares that dated back to his early childhood—nightmares Neal never really went into detail about.

Neal’s eyes flew open and Peter knew that Neal recognized him right away the second their eyes met. “What happened? Why is he acting like this?” he asked concernedly as he rubbed Neal’s chest. Neal was trembling beneath his hand and it was clearly difficult for Neal to contain his screams that had been quieted into whimpers now that Peter was with him.

“We don’t know. He was bleeding severely.” Peter looked over his lover and his heart ached as he looked at the damage done to the poor boy. Neal had hair that was pulled out, his lips were split, his cheekbone was bruised, and that was only his face… Neal had fingernail marks on his skin that had gone deeper than a simple scratch. Someone had messed with the scar on Neal’s chest and that infuriated Peter. Neal’s ribs looked terrible. He felt like at least one of Neal’s ribs had been broken. Neal’s knees were bruised and bloody, but the chastity device on Neal’s cock and the extreme amount of blood between Neal’s legs had him seeing red.

“Help,” Neal pleaded. “Please.” Neal tried not to beg Peter for anything, but Peter could see the desperation in Neal’s eyes. “Please, master,” he sobbed, turning his head to the side as he shut his eyes and fell to pieces.

Peter stared in horror at his boyfriend because he didn’t know what to do. “Tell me what was done to you. Speak as freely as you can. Tell me everything.”

Neal was gasping as he cried, but he whispered, “Eight men. Pool.” Now that Peter was looking at him closely, Neal wasn’t sweating. He was drenched in water. “Hurt. Burning.” Peter’s brows furrowed. He wished Neal could speak to him properly, but he understood that Neal was trying to keep up his own appearance. Neal screamed and his back lifted up off of the hospital bed.”

“What’s burning?” he asked frantically.

“Everything. Needle. Pain.” He breathed heavily and opened his eyes to stare up at Peter with need and tears glistening in his eyes. “Drugged,” he whispered. He knew what happened, but Neal wasn’t supposed to know. Slaves were taught nothing of drugs.

“My slave looks like he’s been drugged,” Peter told the nurse. He gently gripped Neal’s chin to still his frantic movements and stared into Neal’s eyes. It was considerably obvious that Neal had been drugged. He glanced down at Neal’s arms and noticed that Neal was trying to show him that he’d had something injected into his right arm. “Holy shit. He was drugged.” He turned and growled, “My slave was drugged. How did that not cross your mind?”

Twelve hours later, Neal was lying on a real bed for the first time in a long time while trembling against Peter in Peter’s chambers. There were no cameras in Peter’s personal chambers because he was supposed to use them for himself if he chose to stay overnight on the grounds or if he wanted to personally fuck a slave. In the six years that he’s worked in this hellhole, he’d never once had sex with a slave. He’s never had sex with a slave—period. “The water was so cold,” Neal whispered. Peter glanced at Neal because he hadn’t been expecting Neal to finally talk to him about what had happened. “I went with one man and followed him like I was supposed to. There were seven others waiting in a hallway away from the fucking rooms. They bound me, gagged me, and blindfolded me.” He looked up at Peter fearfully and Peter held him close, trying to give him as much comfort as he could offer. “They weighted my ankles down until I was under the water. I couldn’t go anywhere and I couldn’t breathe.”

“Tell me who they were and I’ll put an end to their lives,” Peter snarled.

“I don’t know who they were,” Neal admitted. “Peter… Peter, they put two needles into me. I physically couldn’t move. I was drowning—and they fucked me while I was drowning.” Peter blinked back tears as he stroked Neal’s hair. “Three of them… Three of them were inside of me…” Neal exhaled shakily and whispered, “Four if you count the man who put his dick in my mouth.” Neal began to silently cry against him, but his body shook violently. “I’m in so much pain… I can’t ask you to keep men away from me. I need to eat.” Neal’s stomach growled loudly and startled Peter. He pushed himself up and said, “I need two more hours. Two more hours to fill my quota and I can eat. I need to eat.”

Peter grabbed him and made him lie down. “No. You need to rest.” Neal stared up at him sadly as his stomach growled again. He tried to silence it and that was when Peter watched Neal touch his own ribs and make a disgusted face while shutting his eyes tightly. “Christ. This is absolutely fucking disgusting. You’re forced into this shithole, your body is used and abused, and you’re forced to obey every God damn thing someone tells you to do. You shouldn’t have to have a quota so you can eat.”

Neal twisted closer to Peter, pressing himself against his body. “I didn’t make the rules…”

“In a way, I wish slaves would revolt against their masters. I wish they’d take over and prove to masters and abusers that starving someone until they’re desperate to throw themselves onto the floor for anyone isn’t a fucking joke—nor should it be a job.” Neal stared up at Peter in astonished silence. “I’d allow an uprising. I’d watch it happen and cheer you all on. After the horrors I’ve seen since I was given my job here, I’m willing to let slaves throw me into a cell and treat me as they’ve been treated.”

“But you haven’t hurt a slave,” Neal whispered.

Peter shrugged. “But I carried you all into a place where you’d be hurt. I’m part of the reason all of you are suffering.” Neal swallowed hard. “I did this to you,” he added as he grabbed Neal’s left wrist and flipped it over, displaying _B-zero-one_ , an identification that he was Peter Burke’s first slave, branded onto Neal’s skin. As soon as he’d claimed Neal as his slave, he’d been required to brand him and Neal hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter. “I did this to you,” he repeated in a whisper, rubbing his thumb over Neal’s skin. “This is how I’ve staked my claim on you and I regret burning my _ownership of you,_ ” he sneered, “into your skin.”

Neal’s brows furrowed. “I’d much rather have your brand burned into my skin than a master who beats me and fucks me raw.” Peter cringed. “I love you. I love everything you’ve done for me. In the four years since I was brought here, you’ve never advanced on me sexually. You’ve done nothing that those monsters and rapists have done to me.”

“I put a leash on you and pull you along… I put you in a cell. I—”

“I would rather be here than anywhere without you,” Neal said fiercely, hugging Peter tightly. “I’d rather be with you than with my own father, Peter. I feel safe with you. You take care of me and I know you love me.”

Peter sighed. “Well, the least I could do for you is continue to take care of and love you.” Neal watched Peter push himself up and scoot off of the bed. As he was about to follow, which was another instinct he’d gained as a slave, Peter turned back to him and held his hand up. “I don’t like commanding you and you know that, but I command you to stay right there.” Neal swallowed hard and nodded as Peter turned away from him. Peter went into the kitchenette and started rummaging through the cupboards for anything he could feed Neal quickly. He found some chicken he could put in the stove and it’d be done fairly quickly. Neal likes chicken, but it was leftovers. Scraps. Neal was always fed scraps—just enough to keep him alive for the most part. “How do you feel about—?” He turned towards Neal and immediately dropped the bag in his hands upon seeing how Neal had positioned himself on the bed. Neal was on his hands and knees, his legs were spread, his ass was raised, and his head was bowed submissively. Peter didn’t know how to respond to that, but he decided that he needed to make Neal understand that, despite his slave instincts, Peter never wanted him to act like that. He rushed over to the bed and pushed Neal over, startling him. He closed Neal’s legs and got onto the bed, gripping Neal’s jaw as he whispered, “Don’t you ever do that again. Not with me. Never with me.”

Neal was staring up at him fearfully. The look of pure terror in Neal’s eyes made Peter sick to his stomach. “I-I…”

“Don’t apologize,” Peter interrupted. “Eventually, you’ll be free of this mindset. When you are a free man, you will never do this again.” Neal blinked back tears, but he couldn’t look away from Peter’s eyes—eyes that were full of anger and sadness. “If you and I ever make love in the future, I won’t allow this behavior. You’re not a hole to me. Don’t you dare raise your ass like that with me ever again.” Neal wasn’t able to refrain from crying, but he did it silently. “I love you. I will never let you position yourself like that before I make love to you. I will never ask you to get yourself ready for me so I can fuck you as soon as I want to. No, Neal. When you and I make love, it’ll be much different. It’ll be something we discuss in length and it’ll be consensual.”

“I’m so sorry,” Neal said thickly. He still didn’t look away from Peter and Peter knew he was hurting Neal—not physically. Neal didn’t realize he was doing these things sometimes. He was used to doing things a certain way. Peter’s command was a command that was engrained into him.

_I command you to stay right there_ was usually followed up with _I want you to get into position so I can fuck you the second I’m ready._

Peter shook his head and released Neal’s jaw. He caressed Neal’s cheek and sighed sadly. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. It just…upset me to see you like that.” He rubbed his thumb over Neal’s trembling lips and tried to give him a gentle smile despite how much his heart was breaking at the sight of Neal’s tears. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you—giving yourself to men who don’t give a damn about you and feeling like I’m going to use you the way they do. In the four years that I’ve known you, it has never been my intention to make you feel like my property or like a hole I can use to get myself off.” He hesitated because he desperately wanted to kiss Neal. He knew where that desperation would lead them, so he refrained from going through with it. “You never asked to be a slave. You never asked to be entertainment for men who can’t get some ass on their own merit. You never asked to become a hole instead of a human being.”

Peter’s heart ached as Neal began to sob. Neal closed his eyes and couldn’t contain his emotions. Everything Peter said to him made him realize that Peter would never turn on him. Peter, despite never having been a slave himself, understood and acknowledged the struggles of slaves and Neal’s own personal struggles. Neal finally moved and threw himself against Peter’s body. He wanted to be held, to be comforted, and he knew Peter was the only one who could provide him with both of those things.

It wasn’t a surprise to Neal that Peter immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him like Neal assumed a lover held their significant other. “I want to be free,” Neal whispered against him in between gasping sobs. “Why did this happen to me? Why was I born like this?”

As tears slid down Peter’s own cheeks, he whispered, “I don’t know why, Neal. It was just unfortunate circumstances that your mother wasn’t a free woman when you were born. Neither of you asked to be forced into this life. The fact that your father has such a high position in the slave business tells me that he raped your mother and you were born as a result of that.” Neal nodded against him. His mother never told him that he would be a bastard child if she could get rid of him, that she wished she could smother him or strangle him. Other children’s mothers told them those things, but his mother cherished him.

Despite knowing she’d lose him someday, she cherished the time they had together. She played with him, bathed him, fed him, and took care of him in any way that she could while his father was away. Even when he was home, she tried to do those things, but she had to wait until their master was asleep.

Neal couldn’t even fully remember his mother. He remembered how beautiful and sad she always seemed and he could hear her voice sometimes, but he hadn’t seen her in over a decade. He didn’t even know if she were still alive. For all he knew, his father killed her in his rage over losing his son to the slave trainers.

“ _Why are you so sad, my little love?_ ” Neal remembered sitting in the cold basement with his mother. While their master was away, she was chained to the wall downstairs like a true slave. Whatever she needed for survival was provided for her and her chain was long enough to allow her to move and make a small snack for her child so he wouldn’t starve. She’d lifted his chin after asking him that question every single time and made him look at her. “ _Don’t be sad. You were given life. I know this isn’t perfect, but you were born for a reason, my beautiful baby boy._ ”

He sniffled and whispered, “I don’t want to live like this.”

Peter understood that and wished he could change Neal’s life immediately. He’d trade places with Neal in a heartbeat if he were given the opportunity.

For the moment, he’d let Neal calm down and then he would go about making him something to eat.

•◊•

A few days later, Peter eagerly went into Neal’s cell. Since Neal had been abused very badly, he was allowed two weeks to recover. “You look excited,” Neal said when Peter closed the cell door.

“Hughes is letting me take you off of the compound while you recover.” Neal’s eyes widened. “I need to take you to him so he can inspect you for a moment before we leave, but I’m getting you out of this hellhole for a little while.” Neal jumped up, grabbed his leash, attached it to his collar, and put it in Peter’s hand. Peter just smiled at him because he knew how badly Neal wanted to get out of here. Even if it were only for a few days, it was better than nothing. He’d also gotten into contact with the Mozzie character who could supposedly free slaves, so Mozzie agreed to meet with them in a couple of days to determine what was to be done in order for Neal to safely have his tracker and explosive removed from his body. Once those two devices were out of him and his collar was off, he was untraceable. He could leave and no one would know where he’d gone.

Peter kept that to himself though because he wanted to surprise Neal. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Neal’s face when he revealed that he was getting the process of freeing him started.

He led his lover to the General’s conference room as he was told and he was a little surprised when he saw several of his supervisors waiting for them. “Ah, Burke,” one man said gleefully. “This is the most prized slave on the compound. We couldn’t let you just waltz out of here.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “General Hughes signed a release form that stated I was allowed to take him off of the grounds for ten days.”

“Yes, but, as all masters and handlers must before taking their slave out into the real world, you must prove to us that your slave will obey your every command and will not attempt an escape. You must prove to us that he is broken and that he knows you’re his master.” Neal looked up at Peter fearfully because he didn’t know what was going to happen. “As a sex slave, he’s just a hole. If he doesn’t resist your command to submit his body to you, then he has been broken and he won’t attempt an escape.”

Peter was frozen because he assumed he would just have the ability to walk out of here with Neal. He didn’t know he had to perform a task beforehand. Another General looked at Neal and said, “Perhaps he isn’t broken.” As he shifted his gaze, he added, “Or the master isn’t really a master.”

Glancing at Neal quickly, Neal silently told him to do it. He just wanted to get the hell out of here and he didn’t care about whatever needed to be done. “On your knees,” Peter commanded. Neal sank to his knees immediately. “Is that sufficient enough?”

The Generals stared at him in silence and Peter swallowed. “Burke, we’ll tell you what’s sufficient enough. We’re asking you to prove that you have sexually broken your slave—personally.” Peter’s eyes widened. “If you don’t prove it, we know you aren’t handling him as a sex slave should be handled, which means you are not fit to take him off of the premises or handle him.”

Peter briefly looked at Neal again and Neal gave him the slightest of nods. “Turn around. Hands and knees.” Neal did as Peter commanded and it made Peter sick. “Ass up.” Peter watched him in masked horror because he’d told Neal that he’d never do this to him. The trust and love between them was about to be obliterated. Unzipping and unbuttoning his pants, he said, “Legs spread. Head down.” Neal seemed like he’d been given these commands many, many times before and Peter wanted to get sick right on the spot. He knew what was being asked of him—and so did Neal. “Spread your legs wider.” He positioned himself as he slid his pants down enough and he closed his eyes, biting his lip as he shoved into his lover. Neal didn’t make a single sound as he was fucked by the man he loves. Everyone believed Peter could fuck Neal silently, so Neal was proving to them that Peter’s lies were true.

Peter gripped Neal’s hips and fucked him hard. In order to make himself do this, he imagined the last time he’d been with a man—two months before meeting Neal four years ago. It’d been a one night stand and he’d fucked the other man senseless, so he was using that to fuel him and distract him from the fact that Neal allowed him to rape him. He knew their relationship was over the second he slid into Neal and he regretted it so terribly.

The Generals watched Peter and they were impressed, especially when Peter reached his right hand forward and gripped Neal’s hair. They’d expected Neal to make a sound, but Neal remained silent. Peter kept waiting for them to say he’d done enough damage to his lover, but they said nothing until he came inside of Neal. “Very, very impressive,” they each seemed to say as they applauded him.

As reality slowly began to sink in, Peter realized that he’d done something truly terrible to Neal. He hadn’t just fucked Neal. What he’d done was _breeding._ Neal was trembling in front of him and Peter realized he came inside of Neal. No one did that to their slave unless they had the intention of breeding. Typically, breeding was a term used as attempting to impregnate a female. In the male sense, breeding was giving another man his load to stake his claim on the receiver’s body—and that was what he’d done.

Peter stood and readjusted his pants. He didn’t look at Neal, instead choosing to look at the men he resented. Neal is the first male he’s ever loved and he’d just thrown that love away. “Why do you think he’s so good at what he does?” Considering Neal was supposed to be healing, Peter knew he worsened Neal’s recovery. Neal wasn’t supposed to have sex until his recovery period was complete.

After Peter was given a plug to anally insert into Neal and informed that they would be able to monitor whether or not it remained inside of Neal during his recovery period, Peter was finally able to take Neal away. The plug was monitored because they didn’t want someone worsening Neal’s injuries—even though that was what they’d done by asking him to rape his lover.

Neal crawled like an animal beside Peter as Peter led him to his car and neither of them said a word. Peter was on the brink of crying or getting sick. As soon as they reached his car, he watched Neal stand up and he could see how red and tear-stained Neal’s face was. “I’m fine. I promise.” Neal stared at him, hoping he’d convinced Peter, but all Peter did was stare at him in silence. “Peter, I’m all right.” He wiped his face off and added, “You did a good job. Now I get to go away with you for—” Peter lost it at that. He doubled over, fell to his knees, and got sick in the garage.

Neal was at his side instantly, rubbing his back. “Get away,” he said fiercely as he struggled to refrain from throwing up again. Neal shifted away, but he was still close enough to help Peter if he needed to. “You shouldn’t help me after what I just did. I became one of them—one of those animals… One of those rapists…”

Eyes wide, Neal whispered, “You didn’t rape me or brutalize me. You did what needed to be done in order to—”

Without really meaning to, Peter straightened up and backhanded Neal. Neal hit the car and was startled by the fact that Peter just struck him for the first time. “Don’t you dare tell me I didn’t become one of them. I promised you I’d never do that and look at what I just did. You’re too damn stupid and ignorant to realize that what I just did to you was not out of _love._ ” Neal teared up at that. Peter never spoke to him like this before, but he didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t appreciate the hit or the words of anger spewing out of his lover’s mouth.

Peter forced himself to stand up and he unlocked the car. Neal moved out of the way before Peter angrily opened the back door. He’d nearly hit Neal with it and Neal was fortunate for the fact that he knew how to get away quickly when he needed to protect himself. It didn’t always work out for him in the end, but it certainly did here because he intended on calming Peter down and he knew Peter would feel worse if he hurt him again.

Silently, Neal crawled into the backseat and he flinched when Peter slammed the door shut before heading over to the driver’s seat. As soon as Peter began to drive out of the garage, Neal whispered, “Is our relationship over?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Neal’s lips trembled as his eyes welled up with tears. “But I love you. I’m not stupid. I know what kind of man you are. You’re not the man they forced you to be in there.” Peter remained silent as Neal cried in the backseat. “I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to lose you, Peter.” He was hoping Peter would say something to him, but Peter drove as though he weren’t even in the car with him. “I understand that you’re upset, but please don’t hurt yourself like this. Don’t push me away.”

“You’re a slave and I’m your master,” Peter said bitterly.

Sighing shakily, Neal said, “You had to treat me like a whore so we could leave. I wanted to get away from the grounds, Peter, and you had to listen to them. God only knows what would’ve happened to either of us if you hadn’t fucked me like they wanted you to.” He watched Peter’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel and he swallowed hard. “I love you. You’re not just my master, Peter. You’re the center of my world and the man I love with all of my heart.” He wiped his tears away in frustration and said, “I know you’re a sweet man, Peter. You filled the last two hours of my quota out after feeding me and I was allowed to eat more. Over the last few days, you voided my quota for my recovery and I was allowed to eat. If you were a cruel man and master, you would’ve left my quota open and I wouldn’t be able to eat for two weeks.”

Neal was disheartened by the fact that Peter didn’t speak throughout the entire drive. When Peter parked in another garage, Neal figured they were at Peter’s place. He watched Peter turn off the car, take his keys out of the ignition, and slide out of the car. Figuring it’d be best if he didn’t upset Peter further, Neal waited until Peter came over to open the door for him. The second Peter opened his door and Neal planned on crawling out, Peter surprised him by kissing him passionately—for the very first time.

He held the back of Neal’s head with one hand, rested his other on Neal’s neck, and gave Neal the sweetest kiss—sweeter than Neal ever imagined it would be. When he pulled away, Neal could see the tears in Peter’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doing what they told me to do so I could take you away from the grounds.”

“Any cameras?” Peter shook his head, furrowing his brows. Neal climbed out of the car and stood in front of Peter, tentatively lifting his arms to wrap them around Peter’s neck. “I love you. If you throw our love away, I… I’m already broken inside, but losing your love would make me irreparable.” Peter slid his arms around Neal’s waist then, silently indicating that he’d feel equally broken without Neal. “I know you’ll never hurt me like that unless you’re ordered to perform like that again. I’m away from that disgusting place for a little while, Peter, and it’s because you complied.” He stroked the back of Peter’s neck and whispered, “We could be dead right now. They’d wonder why a handler wouldn’t be able to breed their sex slave and then they’d discover our feelings for each other.”

Nodding, Peter whispered, “I’m sorry for calling you stupid and ignorant. I was just…angry with myself and I’m sorry for taking it out on you, Neal.” Neal gave him a small smile and Peter sighed. “Neal, if you weren’t my slave—if we were both free… Would you have loved me then?”

“Of course,” Neal said instantly. As he watched Peter, he whispered, “I don’t just love you because you’re a kind master. Peter, I know you genuinely love me. This is not Stockholm syndrome.” Peter’s eyes widened. He was surprised that Neal knew what Stockholm syndrome was. “They had a psychologist teach me. She was a behavioral psychologist and taught me things a normal slave shouldn’t know. She was like a mother to me, but she was assigned only to me for a short time.” Peter listened intently to his young lover. “She said she’d evaluate me based on my behaviors, but she was teaching me how to get through this. She taught me not to fall in love with a master.” He bit his lip and added, “I didn’t exactly listen to her…” Peter frowned at him because he knew the dangers of slaves falling in love with masters. If the master didn’t want their slave’s affections, they could have the slave executed. “She taught me not to love an abusive master. She told me it was wrong for me to be treated this way and she taught me a lot because she married a slave master—as a free woman.”

“So she knew what masters were capable of firsthand.”

Neal nodded. “She didn’t want me to die or end up on the breeding grounds. She told me falling in love with a master was a guaranteed kiss of death. Masters who sexually assault their slaves in particular were the ones she warned me about because it was a possibility that I’d become a sex slave even if I went to a couple or family.”

Peter hated how easy it was for Neal to talk about this. Thinking about what Neal was saying made him sick. Then again, this has been Neal’s life for eighteen years. It was all he knew. “I don’t want to be one of the masters she warned you about. I plan on freeing you as soon as possible because I _hate_ knowing that your body is being abused from the inside out.” Neal sighed. “I love you. I’m so sorry for hitting you and…and…b-breeding…”

He looked like he was going to be sick, so Neal immediately rested his hands on Peter’s chest and said, “You owe me no apologies. Calm down. Everything’s okay.” Peter stared into Neal’s beautiful eyes and tried to calm himself as best he could. “We’re away from the grounds. Let’s not waste time thinking about terrible things, okay?”

Neal watched Peter remove his leash and was thrilled when Peter took his hand, intertwining their fingers as he led Neal into his house. He was awed by how simple and beautiful Peter’s home was. His son’s toys were all over the floor and Neal grinned at them. “I can go pick up Ty…or ask my parents to bring him here. I never told them about my job or that my boyfriend is a…sex slave.”

“You could just tell them I’m your cleaning slave or something.” Peter gave him a look. “Okay. I know that won’t work because I’m wearing a collar.” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “And this God damn thing is comfortably inside of me, but embarrassing as fuck.” Peter wished he could remove the plug, but they both knew he couldn’t.

“Do you want to…uh, try on some clothes?” Neal smiled at him because he’d warmed up to the idea of wearing clothes so he didn’t have to look at his ribs anymore. “I mean, I should probably shower you since I…”

Neal interrupted by saying, “I’d love a shower. Will you shower with me?” Peter nodded as he led Neal into his bathroom. Neal watched Peter turn the water on and he smiled as he said, “I’ve never seen you naked before.” He hadn’t even seen Peter’s cock before Peter fucked him in front of the Generals. Peter’s face heated up, so Neal raised an eyebrow and asked, “What do you have to be embarrassed about? Your build is perfect. I can only imagine seeing you naked will be glorious.”

Tentatively, Peter began to undress. Neal watched him raptly and his throat dried when Peter was completely naked. Peter looked a bit sheepish, as though he felt like Neal wouldn’t appreciate his body. The fact that Neal was immediately erect made Peter laugh a little. “I guess it can’t be that bad then.” Stepping closer, Neal lifted his hand and then he stopped and looked at Peter’s face. “You don’t need my permission for anything while we’re alone together. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

Grinning, Neal reached out and stroked Peter’s pectorals, trailing his fingers down to Peter’s abdomen. “You must work out a lot.”

Peter shrugged. “Only when I’m not with my son or you.”

Neal smirked and said, “We could work out some more if you’d like.” Peter glared at him and reached around him, shoving the plug into him a little to remind him that they couldn’t do that—nor did he want to. “Point taken. You and I can’t do it that way, but my mouth isn’t plugged…”

“It’s going to be if you don’t stop right now,” Peter said firmly. The young man was a little taken aback by Peter in that moment. “Why are you so insistent on having some kind of sex with me? You never seemed interested before.”

“Because I’ve felt you now.” Peter tensed in front of him, so Neal continued with, “I like how you fit inside of me. I know you’ll be gentle when I’m free, Peter. I trust you with my life.”

Laughing mirthlessly, Peter growled, “We aren’t doing anything sexual until I free you. I’m not going to breed you like I had to in front of the Generals. I refuse to do that to you ever again.” Neal sighed. He’d wanted to have sex with Peter since the night Peter rescued him from the pool, but he hadn’t acted on it until now—after Peter was forced to perform sexually in order to be permitted to take him off of the grounds. “When you’re free, I’ll make love to you. I’m not going to use your body, Neal. I’ve never wanted to do that.”

Neal tentatively initiated a hug with his lover and whispered, “I know, Peter. You’re a good man.” Peter rubbed his back and that made Neal happy. Even though Peter said their relationship was over in the car, he knew Peter didn’t want it to be over. Their relationship had lasted two years and they both wanted it to continue until and after Neal was freed. “I can’t wait to be free. I’ll be allowed to buy things, to eat when I want, to dress myself, to sleep in a bed…” Neal nuzzled his face against Peter as he whispered, “And I’ll be allowed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The idea of freedom provided him with a wide range of things to look forward to.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter nervously sat beside Neal on the couch. He was fidgeting with his fingers anxiously and Neal understood. The anxiety Peter felt was because of the slave collar Neal had around his neck. He was worried about what his parents would think about him, about Neal, and about his relationship with Neal. To his parents, he was the best son in the world and they couldn’t be more proud of him. That was well before he was going to reveal that his job is a master and handler on the breeding grounds—and that was where he met his boyfriend, who just happened to be a slave. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he said as he stood up. Neal watched him concernedly. “This is going to be bad. They’re going to hate me. They’ll think I’m using you—raping you. I’ve heard them say such awful things—which I know are most definitely true—about the men on the breeding grounds.” He ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace. “They’ll take my son from me. Why would they let a child live with a rapist and abuser?”

Neal stood and grabbed his hand. “Calm down,” he pleaded. Peter stared at him in despair. “I know this is difficult, but we can explain this together. You’re not manipulating me and let’s not discuss what it took to get me here in the first place, okay? As far as I’m concerned, you’ve never raped me or abused me. I’ll talk you up and tell them about all of the wonderful things you’ve done for me since becoming my master.” Peter closed his eyes and Neal held him when Peter shifted for an embrace. He wanted Neal to comfort him for once and he felt selfish about that. “You’re a wonderful man and I’ll make sure they know that. I’m in love with you and it’s because of how wonderful and good your heart is. They can’t take Tyler away from you on the basis of you being a master. Other masters who have slaves also have children.”

“Yes, but children typically aren’t around masters who control sex slaves.”

“Unless they’re born into it,” Neal snapped. Peter flinched because he knew that struck a nerve with Neal. He tended to forget that that was exactly how Neal had come into this world. “I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t ask to come into a life of slavery. I didn’t ask my master to treat me like his slave instead of his son. Do you think I wanted to grow up calling my own father ‘master?’ It made me sick once I realized that it wasn’t normal for a child to call their father their master.” Peter looked at him apologetically. “I lived with my mother. She was just a slave when he bought her and he turned her into a sex slave. She was on birth control and he made her stop. Two months after she stopped taking her pills, I was conceived—because she was constantly raped by him.” Peter tried to verbally apologize, but Neal needed to rant. “My mother, upon finding out she was going to be used as a carrier for his child, tried to kill herself. He chained her to a wall in the basement and she wasn’t allowed to move at all. Her chains weren’t as long as they were when I was finally born. He raped her against the wall every single night and he was brutal after she tried to escape while she was pregnant—brutal to the point where I don’t even know how I’m alive.”

“I’m so sorry…”

Neal shook his head and calmed himself down. He remembered when he’d heard about everything his mother went through. His father—master—had been laughing with a group of friends about his slave. Neal could remember the terrible things James said about his mother and Neal loathed the man he’d been forced to call his master. He’d been too young to fully comprehend everything James said, but he understood every word of it now. “I had to listen to her scream ‘master’ or scream in pain every night. I had a room of my own and he usually shared his bed with her, but there were nights when he would take her into the basement and beat her before forcing sex upon her.” He breathed shakily and whispered, “I was a child who grew up around a sex slave. I was never taken from my master until someone came to see her—to check on her and make sure she was performing adequately for her master. That was when they found me.”

Peter didn’t know how to respond to that, but, fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t have to. The doorbell rang and Peter knew this was it. Neal sat down on the couch and watched him as he nervously headed to the door. As soon as he opened the door, a childish, “Daddy!” was yelled out and a child was in Peter’s arms immediately. Peter laughed as he held his son and kissed his cheek.

“Hey, Ty,” he said happily. “I missed you, kiddo.”

Tyler wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck and smiled. “I missed you, daddy.” He glanced into the living room and saw Neal sitting on the couch. “Daddy, is that your friend?”

Peter’s mother, Neal assumed, gasped and excitedly said, “Do we finally get to meet your mystery boyfriend?” Peter gave her a nervous smile and nodded, carrying his son into the living room to let his parents come in. He stood in front of Neal and silently freaked out before him until he heard the door close. Neal tried to be as comforting as he could, but it didn’t exactly help Peter’s nerves. “Well, where is he, sweetheart?”

Shifting aside, Peter revealed his boyfriend to his parents. His mother gasped in horror when she saw the collar around Neal’s neck. Neal stood up and stepped a little closer to Peter. He wanted to throw himself between Peter’s parents and Peter and Tyler if it came to that. “Peter,” his father growled. “What kind of God damn game are you playing with this poor boy’s mind? I can’t believe you’d use a slave like this! Hasn’t the boy suffered enough?”

“Mister Burke,” Neal interjected. The man looked at Neal in surprise. He wasn’t going to mistreat Neal because he didn’t believe in treating slaves poorly whenever he came into contact with one, but he wasn’t expecting Neal to feel like he could actually speak freely. “Peter isn’t playing mind games with me. I swear. He loves me and we’ve been together for a little over two years.”

Peter’s father looked outraged as he stared at his son. “I can’t believe you did this to him. His body is abused and taken for granted, so you just thought you had the right to claim him for yourself and brainwash him into believing he’s loved and that he loves you?” Peter bit his lip as he blinked back tears. Tyler was holding onto Peter tightly. He didn’t like the way his grandfather was yelling at his daddy. “What kind of sick bastard are you, Peter? You’re certainly no child of mine.”

Neal looked like he was in as much pain as Peter was in. “Please,” he pleaded. “Peter’s a good man. He isn’t cruel to me and he hasn’t manipulated me.” Before the man could speak again, Neal said, “Peter has kept me alive for the last four years. He’s taken care of me. He’s bathed me, fed me, and he’s done whatever else I’ve needed or wanted. Peter is my master only in title, but he’s the man I love. He’s good to me, sir.” Peter’s father stared at Neal skeptically before glaring at his son again. “Your son is my master, but he’s not like the others. He doesn’t beat me or rape me. Peter loves me.”

To ease the tension, Peter’s mother stepped forward and held her hand out. Neal hesitated before shaking her hand. “I’m Diana, Peter’s mother. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She glanced at her son and saw how miserable he looked. He couldn’t even meet his father’s eyes because he felt so ashamed of himself. “Peter’s told us a lot about you. Well, as much as he could anyway. He left this part out.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he whispered. “My name is Neal. That’s my birth name.” She smiled at him and lifted her free hand to pat his cheek. Neal glanced at Peter’s father and knew he was fuming about finding out his son owned a sex slave—and was dating said sex slave. Releasing Diana’s hand, Neal approached Peter’s father, held his hand out, and whispered, “Sir.”

Peter’s father glanced at Neal then. He took Neal’s hand and shook it. “No more of that ‘sir’ or ‘Mister Burke’ bullshit. Just call me Daniel.” Neal was able to smile at the older man then. “Judging by the fact that you’re dressed and that you aren’t looking at my son for permission to act this way or speak this freely, I guess I’ll have to believe that he isn’t harming you.” Neal glanced behind himself to look at Peter and smiled softly at him. “I’m going to assume my son bought you?”

Neal looked at Daniel and frowned. “No. I’m still being trained.” Daniel’s eyes widened. “Peter isn’t partaking! He’s been trying to find a way to free me. He can’t outright purchase me.”

“Why not?”

Peter cleared his throat and said, “Ty, why don’t you go play in your room for a few minutes? Daddy needs to talk to grandma and grandpa.” He set Tyler down and Tyler excitedly darted out of the room. Daniel was staring at Peter expectantly. “In order to purchase him, I’d have to rape him. I would have to take him out into the public, tie him down onto the sex bench at the park, and rape him in front of everyone.” Peter’s parents looked disgusted. “As much as I want to free him, I don’t want to buy him and humiliate the hell out of him like that.” He held his hand out towards Neal and Neal immediately stood at his side, holding his hand. “He doesn’t deserve public shaming for a life he didn’t choose. I love him and I can’t imagine putting him through that. Not only would it hurt him very deeply, but I think it would destroy our relationship because I’d be the one who hurt him.”

Diana asked, “But couldn’t you fake it?”

Peter shook his head. “The last man who tried that was executed—unfortunately, along with his innocent slave.” His parents looked horrified. “I…” He looked at his boyfriend and said, “I was able to get in touch with a man who might be able to help us.” Neal startled and looked at him in pure surprise. Peter gave him a small smile and nodded. “He’s going to come here in a couple days to evaluate the safest ways to remove the tracker and explosive.”

“There’s an explosive inside of him?” Peter’s parents simultaneously exclaimed.

Neal flinched as Peter nodded. “If his collar’s tracker and the tracker implanted into his hip don’t show him as being in the same location, the explosive in his bicep will activate. An alarm signals the Marshals and all they have to do is hit a button.” Neal appreciated how Peter’s parents were reacting. Free people typically didn’t care about the hell slaves faced if they attempted to run. “His death would be instant.” As he looked at Neal solemnly, he whispered, “I don’t want to lose him by helping him escape.”

Tyler darted back into the room and ran into Neal. Neal turned, releasing Peter’s hand, and rested his hand on Tyler’s head, stroking the boy’s hair. “You’re daddy’s friend?”

“Yeah. I’m your daddy’s boyfriend, Tyler.”

Peter smiled at the two. “You’re wearing daddy’s shirt.” Neal swallowed hard as Tyler looked up to his father and asked, “Daddy, why is he wearing your shirt?”

There was a brief silence between them before Peter said, “Because daddy’s helping Neal. Neal wanted to wear some of daddy’s clothes. Is that okay?” Tyler shrugged and glanced at Neal again. “Neal’s a nice guy, Ty.”

“He looks really sick and skinny,” Tyler said as he observed Neal’s face and arms. Peter smacked the back of his son’s head after seeing the look of despair on Neal’s face. “Ow, daddy. Why’d you hit me?”

“That wasn’t very nice,” Peter said firmly. “What do you say to him now?”

Neal sighed. “Peter, it’s okay. He’s just a kid…”

Peter repeated, “What do you say to him now?”

Neal watched his boyfriend and he knew Peter was trying to protect him and his feelings, but Neal didn’t want Peter to turn against his own son. “I’m sorry, Mister Neal.”

Tyler moved closer to Neal and hugged him, resting his head against Neal’s flat stomach. Neal tried to keep Tyler away from parts of him that were bonier than others because he didn’t exactly want Tyler to make another remark about his lack of weight. Unfortunately, Daniel decided to make a big deal out of it. He neared Neal and touched his abdomen, lifting his hand a moment later to feel his ribs and how skinny he was. Neal looked at him fearfully as he continued pressing his hand against Neal’s upper torso. Peter’s shirt was extremely loose on him, but that was why he’d chosen it. He hoped to avoid this. “You’re not feeding him?” Daniel asked accusingly as he turned back to his son.

“I try to,” Peter insisted. “Things are difficult and I have to sneak food into his cell even though—”

“Some boyfriend,” Daniel scoffed. “You’re letting the poor boy starve and waste away.” Tears slid down Neal’s face as he stared at Peter and that devastated Peter. “You should be taking better care of him if you truly love him. You—”

Neal’s jaw tensed and Peter frantically said, “Dad, get your hands off of him!” Tyler ran to his daddy and Daniel shifted away from Neal as Neal turned away, fell to his knees, and got sick in front of everyone. Peter was on his knees beside Neal in an instant, rubbing his bony back. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Neal. You’re okay, beautiful.” Neal shuddered beneath his hand and Peter looked up at his father, seeing the apology in his eyes.

After Neal settled down, Diana took Neal into the kitchen to make something for him to eat. She decided to teach him a little since he clearly had no idea how to make food for himself.

Peter had cleaned up the mess Neal made on the floor and he was now sitting on the couch with Tyler in his lap. “I didn’t mean to upset him,” Daniel said solemnly.

“He doesn’t take criticism very well,” Peter admitted. “His self-esteem is fragile simply because of what’s been done and said to him.” Daniel nodded as he listened to his wife explain how to make chicken and rice since that was what Neal said he wanted to eat. “I’ve been in love with him for two years and he…hates his body. When I brought him home, we showered and he… He threw up at the sight of himself in the mirror.” Daniel looked as though his own heart had broken just hearing that. “He’s so pale and…thin. I’ve tried to feed him when I can, dad, but you don’t understand. He has to…to give himself to men for a certain amount of time every single day before he’s allowed to eat. He goes days without eating and I try to bring food in for him.” Peter lifted Tyler’s tiny hands and kissed them before whispering, “I’ve always been afraid for his wellbeing. He’s anorexic and can’t eat very much even when I try to encourage him. It’s not his fault. It’s the fault of the men who torment him.”

“How long has he been a…slave for other men’s pleasure?”

“Four years,” Peter said sadly. “He was physically healthy when I met him, but being starved and…abused has done this to him.” Peter heard Neal laugh quietly and he smiled because it was a sound he didn’t hear very often. “He’s constantly stressed out and exhausted, so he doesn’t have a very good healing rate either. I’m trying to do what I can and I know it’ll never be enough until he’s free.”

Tyler looked at his daddy’s face and asked, “Is Neal a pet?”

If Tyler were anyone else, Peter would’ve struck him. “No, Ty.” He knew Tyler didn’t exactly understand and he couldn’t get upset with him for asking questions. “Neal’s a…” He swallowed. “You remember the guy we saw in the store the other day?”

Tyler nodded. “You said he was a…slave?” Peter frowned because he’d tried to explain it simply, but there was no simple way to explain the suffering of innocent people who didn’t ask for the life they were forced into. “Neal is a slave?” Peter closed his eyes and nodded. Tyler grabbed his face and Peter opened his eyes. “Daddy, we have to keep him with us. Don’t make him act like a doggy.”

“Daddy doesn’t make Neal act like that,” he assured his son. “I love Neal as much as I love you, Ty. He’s my boyfriend.”

The boy looked at Peter confusedly and asked, “What about mommy?”

Peter sighed. “Mommy and daddy aren’t…together. We’re friends, but mommy and daddy can’t really be around each other. We aren’t nice to each other.”

“But you’re nice to me.”

“We love you, Tyler. Mommy and daddy have problems, but we both love you, buddy.” Tyler smiled at him. “No one is going to replace mommy, Ty. Neal’s my boyfriend and mommy was my wife.” Tyler leaned against him, sighing. “I love you, Tyler. You’re my whole world.”

Tyler rubbed his hand on Peter’s chest and whispered, “I love you, daddy.”

Diana said she would dish out the food a little while later so Neal could take it easy. Standing for as long as he did and doing what Diana told him to do tired him out. He wasn’t exactly used to making food. His hands were usually holding another man’s dick or he was holding himself up on them. He returned to the living room and took a seat on the couch his boyfriend was sitting on. Peter glanced over at him and his brows furrowed. “You can sit closer to me, Neal. Nobody’s upset with you.” Neal focused on the exact spot where he’d gotten sick. Peter sighed as he reached over to stroke Neal’s thigh. “Remember what I said to you?”

“ _Don’t_ call me beautiful,” Neal said firmly.

Daniel watched the young man, which broke his heart. He’d never come into close contact with a slave like he was now, but this wasn’t what he expected. Slaves he’d seen were healthier than Neal and seemed to be a little happier than Neal. Peter was trying to assure him that he’s loved and Neal didn’t seem like he wanted to hear it or believe it right now. “Neal, you are beautiful,” he whispered. Neal shook his head silently. “I know you don’t feel beautiful, but you are, Neal.”

Neal glared at him before saying, “Well, your definition of ‘beautiful’ must be really fucked up then.” He cringed when he realized he’d cursed in front of Peter’s son. Peter didn’t exactly seem offended or pissed off about it though. It was probably because Peter’s ex-wife said so many atrocious things about Peter and his sexuality in front of him, which was really wrong in Neal’s opinion. Whether or not they were together, they shouldn’t put each other down. Peter hadn’t said anything extremely negative about his ex in front of their son because he was far more mature.

“When you’re healthy again, you’ll finally believe me.” Neal wanted to protest that, but he remained silent. “I can’t imagine how you feel right now, Neal, and I’m so sorry for everything. You’re beautiful to me.”

Peter watched his boyfriend blink back tears. Tyler and Daniel were watching him, too. Neal wanted to believe what Peter was saying, but he hadn’t felt adequate or attractive enough for anyone in quite some time. Peter reached out to take Neal’s hand in his. Every time he touched Neal, he tried not to think about how sickened he was by the fact that no one cared about Neal’s anorexia—aside from him and his family. He tried to touch Neal as gently as he himself would want to be touched. Neal never complained about his touch. In fact, he welcomed it. No matter what kind of touch it was, Neal just wanted Peter to touch him.

Neal felt really overwhelmed because he wasn’t used to so many people caring about him. It was only three people—since Tyler was young and didn’t quite understand—and he felt overwhelmed. Peter watched Neal stand abruptly and leave the room. He sighed sadly, knowing that he’d upset Neal if he went after him. Neal didn’t like being followed or chased, so Peter tried not to corner Neal. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Shaking his head, Peter murmured, “No. He needs time to himself sometimes.” That sounded so funny to him considering Neal was isolated so much. “He was solely loved by his mother before he became a slave in the system.” Glancing at his son, he frowned and whispered, “He was Tyler’s age when he was officially enslaved.” Daniel gave Peter a confused look. “His father was his and his mother’s master.” The look on Daniel’s face made Peter feel a little better. It was nice to see that he wasn’t the only one who sympathized for Neal’s situation. “He wasn’t exactly loved after he was taken from her. Trying to get him to believe that I had feelings for him and didn’t want to use him was difficult at first.”

Daniel whispered, “How did you convince him that you honestly had feelings for him?”

Peter looked up as Diana came into the room. “I’ll…talk about it later. I don’t want Neal to be around because he’ll feel embarrassed. The thing he doesn’t understand is that he has every right to feel the way he feels and I’ve never blamed him for those feelings.” Daniel nodded. “Ty, go sit at the table with grandma.”

“Are you gonna get Neal?”

Peter nodded. Tyler slid off of his lap and went out into the dining room. Daniel followed the boy as Peter went in the direction Neal had run in. He didn’t know exactly where Neal was, but he’d find him. He stopped in the hallway when he heard Neal crying. Neal was sitting in Tyler’s bedroom. As he approached his son’s room, he glanced in and saw Neal kneeling in front of Tyler’s toy box. He had a small toy car in his hand and Peter didn’t really understand why this was upsetting Neal. Walking into the room quietly, Peter got on his knees beside Neal and gently touched his back. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Neal nodded and whispered, “Vroom vroom.” Peter’s brows furrowed as he watched his boyfriend. Neal opened his teary eyes and stared at the little car longingly.

“Was a car the last toy you had as a kid?” Peter asked curiously. Neal nodded in response. He glanced at his boyfriend and felt like a fool for crying over the fact that he never got to play with his little car ever again after being taken away.

Before Peter had the opportunity to say anything, a little voice whispered, “You can keep it.”

Both men startled and turned to see Tyler standing there. He was smiling a little at Neal and he knew Neal appreciated it. “It’s yours. I couldn’t…”

Tyler watched Neal set the car down, so he entered his bedroom and picked it up. He took Neal’s left hand and put the car into it, folding Neal’s fingers over the little car. It was as blue as Neal’s eyes and it was a reminder of the only enjoyment and entertainment he had as a child. It’d belonged to his father, but his father never noticed that he’d taken it. “Keep it,” Tyler said softly. Neal’s eyes welled up with tears as he stared at the little boy. “I have a lot of toys. You can take whatever you want.” Neal laughed and lifted his right hand to wipe his face off. “I like you.” 

“I like you, too,” Neal whispered. He tentatively initiated a hug with the boy after looking at Peter to see Peter’s smile. “Thank you, Tyler.” He was tempted to kiss the boy’s cheek, but he didn’t think that’d be appropriate of him.

Peter helped Neal stand up and kept Tyler back for a moment while Neal went to sit with Peter’s parents. “Tyler, that was really sweet,” he whispered to his son. “That made daddy really proud of you.” Tyler grinned up at him excitedly. “You made Neal really happy, buddy.” He messed with Tyler’s hair and softly said, “You’re a good kid.” He picked Tyler up and kissed his forehead, smiling at him as he carried him to the dining room.

Peter noticed the look his parents were giving him and he wondered why until he saw Neal on the other side of the table—on the floor. “Daddy, why’s Neal on the floor?”

Sighing, Peter set his son down and went over to Neal. He was looking down at him and hated how Neal was on his knees with his hands in his lap. It was typical for a slave to sit like this when their master was eating in front of them. “He wanted to know which chair you’d be sitting in,” Diana said sadly.

“Neal.” Neal looked up at him immediately. “Stand up.” Peter’s parents watched how quick Neal was to react to Peter’s commands. Peter lifted his hands and caressed the sides of Neal’s face, whispering, “You’re a human being. You’re not an animal.” Neal frowned at him because this wasn’t what he was used to. “Sit at the table with us, sweetheart.” Neal’s heart fluttered when Peter called him that again. He hadn’t really paid it any attention the first time Peter said it, but he certainly did when Peter said it again.

Hesitantly, Neal took the seat beside Peter’s. Peter waited until he was situated before taking his own seat. Tyler had already started eating and Peter just smiled at him. He and his parents began to eat moments later, but Neal didn’t eat. Neal stared at his plate and kept his hands folded in his lap. “Why aren’t you eating?” Tyler eventually asked him.

Peter glanced at Neal’s plate and felt bad for not realizing that Neal wasn’t eating yet. Neal looked like he didn’t know what to say, so he looked at Peter. Peter shook his head to indicate that he wanted Neal to speak for himself. “I… I’m used to waiting until my master finishes his meal.” Peter’s father slammed his silverware down onto his plate and Neal hurriedly clarified, “Not Peter!”

Daniel relaxed then after sharing a look with his son. “Well, you’re allowed to eat, Neal. You don’t need my permission nor do you need to wait until your food is cold before you can eat it.” Neal stared at his food and then he stared at his silverware anxiously. Peter watched him before realizing Neal had always used his hands to eat. “Watch me.” Neal did. He focused on Peter’s hands immediately and watched Peter use his silverware to eat. Peter did it a few times before nodding and saying, “You try it.”

Neal picked up his fork and held it the way Peter was holding his. He tentatively used his fork to capture some of his food, but he ended up making a mess. He stared at it in despair and set his fork down quickly. The Burkes watched him hurriedly try to get everything back onto his plate until Peter grabbed his arm to stop him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said frantically. He looked at Peter and saw the understanding in his eyes. Relaxing for a few moments, Neal tried not to let his anxiety control him. Rice was still on the table and his heart was pounding as he looked at it, but nothing was happening. No one was beating him for making a mess. No one was throwing his plate onto the floor and ordering him to eat his food off of the floor.

“Take it easy,” Peter said gently. “No one is going to hurt you.” Neal’s hands were shaking as he tried to refrain from picking up the rice on the table. Peter took Neal’s hand in his and held it on the table. “It happens sometimes.” He nodded over at Tyler and said, “Look at the mess he’s already made.” Neal glanced over at Tyler’s side of the table and he nearly had a heart attack when he saw how much food was on the table. “No one is going to beat you, sweetheart. Everything’s okay.”

Peter’s parents watched their son try to calm Neal down and they realized that Neal was traumatized. He was a wreck as he tried to tear his gaze away from the food and focused on Peter’s face. Daniel and Diana felt awful when they saw how fearful and anxious Neal had become. They both knew Neal had been five when he was taken away from his home, but they didn’t realize how much psychological damage a little boy could absorb. The fact that this fear was haunting him thirteen years later upset Diana very much. “Daddy, is Neal okay?”

Neal and Peter both glanced at the boy and Peter nodded. “Neal’s okay, buddy. Don’t worry.” He released Neal’s hand and gestured for Neal to try eating again. When Neal failed again and got more rice on the table, Peter decided it would take longer than a minute to teach Neal how to properly use silverware. Neal isn’t stupid by any means. He was just nervous. If they were alone, Neal could probably pick it up quickly after a few attempts. “If you want to eat with your hands, you can. I know that’s what makes you comfortable.”

Tyler watched Neal eat with his hands and he gaped at Peter. “Daddy! You yell at me when I do that!”

Peter cringed as he watched Neal react. Neal immediately stopped and sat straight up in his chair, placing his hands in his lap again. Groaning, Peter said, “Tyler, daddy doesn’t _yell_ at you. Neal’s having a hard time right now.”

As he was about to tell Neal to go ahead, he realized Neal was playing with the toy car in his lap. It was something that comforted Neal apparently. Neal eventually glanced at Peter and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Peter softly said, “Don’t apologize. I, more than anyone, understand what you’re going through. This is good practice though. When you’re a free man, you’ll know how to do these things yourself.” He leaned over and kissed Neal’s temple, whispering, “You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

A little while later, Peter was falling asleep on his couch after completing several of his crosswords that he’d been neglecting in favor of spending time with Neal. Tyler was playing with Neal and Peter’s parents had gone home.

Neal went into the living room to ask Peter a question and he found his lover asleep. Instead of speaking and waking him, he grabbed the blanket and laid it over Peter. Unfortunately, that woke Peter up. “I didn’t mean to wake you…”

“What time is it?”

“It’s about ten.”

Peter nodded and asked, “Do you want to sleep in my bed?” Neal hesitated. “I have a guestroom if you’d like to sleep there instead,” he offered.

Neal shook his head. “I’ll…sleep with you.” Peter smiled at him as he got up. “I tucked Tyler in when we finished playing with his cars. He told me to tell you good night and that he loves you.” Peter chuckled and nodded. “He’s really kind to me.”

“Ty’s a good kid. Even though my ex is a bitch, we made a really sweet little boy.” Neal nodded and was intimidated by Peter’s bed the second he focused on it. “Remember how I held you that night after the incident at the pool?” Neal nodded up at him. “It’ll be just as innocent as that. You have nothing to worry about.”

Peter waited until Neal crawled into bed before joining him. Despite the fact that Neal was more bone than anything else, he draped his arm over Neal’s waist. “Good night, Peter,” Neal whispered. “I love you so much.”

Peter kissed the back of Neal’s head and whispered, “Good night, my love. I love you just as much.” He managed to stay awake until he knew Neal was asleep. He wanted Neal to relax first before allowing himself that luxury. Neal’s reactions to everything concerned him, so Peter waited. Now that Neal was asleep, Peter felt comfortable allowing himself to sleep.

This is what freedom would feel like once Neal was a free man.


	5. Chapter 5

In the afternoon several days later, Peter and Neal were awaiting the arrival of Mozzie, the man who was going to evaluate Neal’s situation and determine how long this process of freeing him would take. Peter wanted Neal to be free and he knew he was going to have to part with Neal for a little while. Neal understood that Peter wanted to smooth things over with his ex-wife and figure out his situation with his son. The very last thing Neal wanted was for Peter to lose his visitation rights to his son entirely.

“Are you nervous?” Peter asked Neal, watching him. Neal was rubbing his fingers over the toy car he absolutely loved, but he shook his head. “It’s okay if you are. I’m nervous myself. I hope he’ll be able to free you very soon. It’d be wonderful if he could perform something before I even take you back to the grounds.”

Neal laughed sadly. “It’s wishful thinking at this point. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of luck.” Peter rested his hand on Neal’s thigh and stroked him gently. He knew Neal was afraid that this wasn’t going to work out in their favor. Neal didn’t tell Peter that some slaves couldn’t have their explosive removed from their body, which prevented them from being freed. With his explosive located in his bicep, he was hopeful that Mozzie would be able to extract it without much of an issue.

Peter immediately went to open the door the second the doorbell rang. As soon as the door opened, he was met by a short man. “Burke?” Peter nodded and gestured for Mozzie to enter. Mozzie looked at the floor, seeing several toys for a child. “I hope these aren’t for your slave.” Peter glared at him before showing him into the living room. “Ah. You must be Neal then. I’m not surprised that you were able to keep your birth name considering it attaches you to a slave master and torturer.” Neal’s eyes widened, as did Peter’s. Neither of them told Mozzie about Neal’s father. “I’ve looked into you, my young friend. I needed to make sure I wasn’t being set up.”

“I assure you that this isn’t a setup,” Neal insisted. There was a brief moment of silence as Mozzie set down his briefcase on the coffee table in front of Neal. “May I ask a question?” Mozzie looked at him again and nodded. He had an extremely soft spot when it came to slaves—sex slaves in particular. “Natalie Caffrey,” he whispered. Mozzie’s brows furrowed. He knew that was Neal’s mother, but he didn’t know what Neal was asking. “Have you…freed her?”

Mozzie gave him a disheartened look as he shook his head. “I’ve never met her. I’m sorry.” Neal was upset by that. Both Peter and Mozzie understood why. “You were five when you were taken from her, correct?” Neal made a sound of confirmation. “That was probably the worst time to bring you into this lovely life we call hell. I assume the transition between living with your mother and living with a bunch of slave boys was difficult.” Neal didn’t answer. “It’s easier if you’re born into the slave trade rather than born a slave and allowed to live your life outside of the trade for any amount of time once you can begin to retain memories. They prefer to abduct children who were just born or children who haven’t yet reached their first year of life.”

“How do you know all of this?” he asked as Mozzie pulled out some rectangular object he’d never seen before in his life. Isolation from the world prevented him from learning more than he learned from his mother and his teachers.

Mozzie paused once more before rolling up his left sleeve, flipping his arm to show Neal the underside of his wrist. Neal’s eyes widened when he saw that Mozzie had been branded. He had no idea that he was hopefully going to be freed by a former slave. “I was born within the walls of the female equivalent of the training compound you were put into. I didn’t have time to be with my mother as you did. I was stripped away from her within a matter of weeks.” Peter watched Mozzie cautiously. Neal was traumatized by his enslavement in several ways and his reactions to things were unpredictable at times, but this Mozzie character was a wild card. He didn’t know if this man were traumatized in his own way nor did he know if he could potentially become violent and harm Neal if Neal said something that triggered his trauma. “I clawed the explosive out of my thigh and the tracker out of my forearm when I was fourteen. I wasn’t the best of slaves and I was going to be sent to the breeding grounds as you were, but I couldn’t allow myself to live that life—not to say that you allowed yourself to live like this.”

Neal nodded slowly. “I did allow it, actually,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how to get my explosive and tracker out beforehand, but I allowed myself to be taken instead of my friend.” Mozzie gave him a sympathetic look. “He’d eaten more than his portion and the other children blamed him immediately. I knew he’d be shipped to the breeding grounds as soon as he turned thirteen and I didn’t want him to live like that.” He swallowed hard and said, “I took the fall for him. He wouldn’t have survived this life. I knew I was going to be taken away immediately, but I saved him from having to go through all of this.” Laughing mirthlessly, he whispered, “I guess that’s one good thing I’ve done in my life even though he still ended up dying when everything was all said and done.”

Peter moved to sit beside Neal and took his hand. He didn’t have to speak to let Neal know that Neal had done more good than anything else. “You were a very mature boy to have known the consequences in advance and dealt with them nonetheless—and for another boy at that.” He picked up the rectangular object and said, “Show me where your explosive is.” Neal immediately pointed at his bicep and Mozzie nodded, lifting the object. Peter shifted a little because he wanted to see what Mozzie was doing.

The object was a makeshift x-ray device that allowed Mozzie to see exactly where Neal’s explosive was and Peter was surprised by how small it was. Such a small object could cause fatal damage to Neal. “It’s smaller than I thought it was.”

Mozzie chuckled quietly. “Isn’t it terrifying to know such a minor device can instantly kill a grown man?” Peter swallowed hard as he looked back at Neal. “They’ve actually gotten smaller. Mine was easier to extract. Yours is attached to a tendon, which might complicate its extraction.” He moved his device down to Neal’s hip because he knew Peter mentioned that the tracker was located there. Once again, Peter moved so he could see what Mozzie saw. “This will be simple. It’s much smaller than mine and a little harder to detect, but it isn’t attached to your hip bone as I feared it would be.”

“So my explosive is the only complication?” Mozzie nodded. “It’s still possible to remove it though?”

“Of course,” Mozzie assured him, setting his device down. “I’m going to have to call one of my acquaintances who, fortunately, specializes in surgeries like this.” Neal’s eyes widened when ‘surgery’ was mentioned. “It shouldn’t take her too long, but she knows that she could set off the explosive as she’s trying to remove it. It’s never happened when she’s extracted explosives from the arms before, but we’ve heard horror stories from other doctors who’ve willingly assisted in freeing slaves.”

Peter asked, “How long will it be before your specialist can see Neal? I’d have to plan accordingly so I can get Neal away from the breeding grounds early enough.”

Mozzie gave Peter an apologetic look as he said, “This particular doctor is abroad at the moment.” Peter’s jaw dropped as he wondered why Mozzie considered this doctor when she wasn’t even in the country. “She will be here in six months, however. You don’t have to worry about her being unable to find the time to see you. She prioritizes slaves. Because you’re a sex slave, you’re at the very height of her priorities. Fortunately for us, she’s seen what sex slaves go through and she desperately wants to free them. I think it’ll take a matter of moments for her to place you ahead of her scheduled appointments. I’m sure she’d also be able to remove your tracker. I’d have get a well-known and unhelpful-to-slaves specialist if it were concerning, but it should be simple enough for her to accomplish.”

Neal was able to smile at Peter. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. As tears welled up in his eyes, he whispered, “I could be a free man in six months.”

•◊•

Three months later, Neal was sitting in his cell, quietly playing with his toy car that Tyler had given him. Peter had given him a better blanket the second they returned Neal to his cell after spending time outside of the grounds with Peter because he didn’t want anyone to know Neal had a toy since he knew it’d be taken away from him immediately if anyone were to discover it. As he was making the car silently fly through the air to entertain himself, his cell door suddenly opened. He startled and shoved the car under the blanket before quickly lying down. He wasn’t allowed a pillow, but Peter managed to get permission for him to have a blanket in his cell at the very least, especially since it was beginning to get a little colder.

Neal waited for someone to come in and no one came. Furrowing his brows, he sat up and listened to what was going on outside of his cell. He heard several people in the hallway and it sounded like there was a lot of running going on. This section alone had one hundred and twenty-five slaves. It sounded like a good majority of them were out there. Tentatively, Neal stood up and approached his cell door, peering out to see what was happening. He watched slaves take off like bats out of hell and he wondered what the hell was going on. Was this some kind of test to see which slaves were obedient and which slaves were likely to abandon their master the second they had the opportunity?

Neal wasn’t the only one to remain in his cell, but he was the only one who was truly terrified by the idea of what the consequences would be if he attempted to follow the crowd. Stepping out into the hallway, Neal could hear how excited the men were quite the distance down the hallway. They were all running and the temptation was hitting Neal hard, but his desire to live kept him back. That was only partially why he didn’t run. If he ran, he’d never see Peter again. Even if he managed to escape and make it to Peter’s house, the Marshals would set off his explosive at some point and he’d either die right before making it to Peter’s home or he’d die right in front of Peter—or Peter and Tyler.

Turning to glance at an older man who stopped and stood at his side, Neal whispered, “What’s going on? What are they all doing?”

“Slave break,” the man said with a sigh. “Someone, more than likely a master in love with his slave, automatically opened all of the cells and they’re trying to find their way out. Little do they know that they’re going to die.” Neal gave the man a frightened look. “They don’t realize that the hallways they thought they memorized shift during the night for this exact reason. General Hughes is the smartest General I’ve ever seen and he’s done everything in his power to prevent a slave uprising as well as an escape like this.” He sighed once again. “The walls are covered by illusion. The General built in a mechanism that allows the walls to shift around. The fools don’t know they’re going to run right back into here where they’re all going to be murdered. Once they enter the fifth hall, the alarm—” Just as he was about to tell Neal that the alarms would activate, they activated. “If you value your life and whatever reason you had for remaining here instead of running with them, you’ll get back into your cell.”

Neal nodded frantically and darted back inside. He could hear the slaves coming down another hallway and he sat down in his cell, pulling his knees up to his chest out of sheer fear because he didn’t want to die like the old man was suggesting he would. In a matter of moments, the group halted. “We’ve run in a circle,” someone said. “We’ve run in a circle!”

The group of slaves were panicking and trying to quickly discuss a new exit plan, but they never had the chance to fully devise another escape route. Guns went off and Neal screamed, covering his ears as he shut his eyes tightly. He was trembling until everything became very quiet. Lowering his hands and opening his eyes, Neal stared at his cell door fearfully. There were no sounds or desperate cries in the hall. “Check the cells. See if any of them stayed.”

That was General Hughes. In a matter of moments, one of the guards came into his cell and looked at him immediately. “One in here, sir.”

Neal listened to the other guards call out to the General if they found a slave and Neal was astonished to hear that only twenty slaves—including himself—hadn’t attempted to escape. “Bring them all into the hall.” Neal’s anxiety rose because he didn’t think he’d die the way the others did. He thought he’d be safe if he went back into his cell like the old man told him. The guard came in and roughly grabbed him, shoving him out of his cell and into the hall. On the floor before the remaining slaves were all of the corpses of those who tried to escape. “Consider this an example of what happens if you attempt to escape my compound.” Neal was about to get sick, but he managed to stop himself. He also tried not to look at the bodies because he didn’t want to see that several people he’d spoken to at some point in the last four years and had become acquaintances with were lying there. “Take them all to the whips. Each one of them gets twenty-five lashings. Dispose of those who resist and have this mess cleaned up.”

Neal gaped at the General as the General walked away. He’d given his order for them to be whipped and they were severely outnumbered. Two attempted to resist and were immediately shot. Neal couldn’t help screaming as he watched two men die in front of him. He was the youngest slave in this section, but he was the most requested slave as well. He’d never watched anyone die before.

The remaining eighteen slaves were led down to the room used for whipping disobedient slaves. Even though they’d remained in their cells and managed to avoid getting themselves killed, they were going to be punished as well. Hughes had a zero tolerance rule when it came to slave escapes. Everyone suffered.

Much to Neal’s disdain, he was forced to listen to seventeen other slaves scream in agony and be whipped twenty-five times each before he was the last to enter and the last to receive punishment.

•◊•

Peter rushed into the compound an hour later upon receiving a message from Jones that there was an escape attempt. Jones couldn’t confirm or deny that Neal had survived because he honestly didn’t know and he wasn’t allowed into the section because he isn’t a handler. Peter, however, had that clearance. As he ran down the hall, he could see exactly where all of the slaves had died. Blood stained the floor, but the bodies were disposed of.

Quickly, Peter went to Neal’s cell and frantically tried to open the door as quickly as he could. As soon as the door opened, he ran inside to find Neal huddled up into a corner with his blanket wrapped around himself. Peter sighed shakily in relief as tears welled up in his eyes. He shut the cell door and Neal startled upon realizing someone was in his cell. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” Peter said as he rushed over to Neal. He pulled Neal into an embrace and was immediately stunned by the stickiness on Neal’s back. Sitting back to look at Neal’s face, he could see that Neal had been crying quite a bit. “Let me see your back.” Neal shook his head as his lips trembled. “Neal, let me see your back.”

Neal eventually did as Peter told him to and got onto his knees, turning his entire body to face the wall. Peter stared in horror at how bloody Neal’s back, ass, and thighs were. No one had taken care of his wounds and Peter didn’t understand how he’d gotten them in the first place. “We were all whipped—twenty-five times.”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter exclaimed. “Why? Why were you hurt? Did you leave your cell?”

“He wanted us to know that he wouldn’t permit another escape attempt,” Neal said thickly, lifting his right hand to wipe his tears away. “He had the group killed in the hall and then he said we were going to be whipped. Anyone who resisted was shot to death right in front of us.”

Peter couldn’t imagine what Neal had seen an hour ago, but the haunting and terrified look in Neal’s eyes told him enough. “I leave for two fucking hours, and those bastards decide to attempt an escape. I could have stopped the whippings.” Neal shook his head and moved closer to Peter, wanting Peter’s arms to surround him. “How many of you are left?”

Neal sniffled as he whispered, “Eighteen.” The number was so much lower than Peter expected and that terrified him as well. Neal could’ve easily been dragged along into the group of escapees and killed as well. “I was too afraid. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be without you.”

After several minutes, Neal was being showered by Peter gently. Peter was essentially worshipping his lover’s body because he was so relieved that Neal hadn’t been killed. He understood why Neal didn’t run, but he wished Neal hadn’t been punished. As Peter tentatively touched the wounds Neal had received from the whip, Neal tried to refrain from crying out. He knew Peter wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt him. “I’m so sorry, Neal.” Neal shook his head silently. As Peter moved around to stand at his side while rubbing the cloth across Neal’s chest, he whispered, “Please tell me there’s something I can do to at least ease some of your pain.”

The young man swallowed hard and said, “Will you make love to me?” Peter didn’t respond to that. He was actually surprised by Neal because Neal hadn’t asked about it again after Peter initially told him to forget about it three months ago. “Please. After what I saw… I need your love.”

Peter sighed and whispered, “I still have to fill out paperwork for your quota…”

“I know,” Neal said quietly. “I can wait. I just want to feel you and your love.” Peter nodded and tried to refrain from kissing Neal in the shower. He knew he could have sex with Neal right here, but security would be watching him and he wanted this to only be between him and Neal. “Will you make love to me?”

As much as Peter wanted to tell Neal that he wouldn’t, he didn’t want to deny Neal this. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of making love to Neal. It just wasn’t exactly an ideal way of coping with witnessing the horrific aftermath of an escape attempt. Regardless of whether or not it was ideal, he wanted to be with Neal and he wanted to make love to Neal. As long as Neal recognized the difference, he felt like he could go through with it. “Yes,” he eventually said in Neal’s ear.

Before doing anything related to making love to Neal, Peter bandaged Neal’s wounds. He had to fill out the paperwork for Neal’s quota as he’d done multiple times. It’d been a long time since he filled them out and claimed he was the one fucking Neal. The first two years had been considered his training since it seemed like Peter was the only one who fucked Neal—even though he’d never once attempted anything sexual with his soon-to-be-lover.

After setting the paperwork down on the desk, he grabbed Neal’s leash and led Neal to his personal chambers. He also supposed it was good to get Neal away from the cell because someone was finally mopping up all of the blood—and it smelled awful.

Peter removed Neal’s leash as soon as they were inside of the chambers and he’d locked the door. He’d signed Neal out for three hours, claiming that he intended on personally punishing his slave. Everything he wrote on paper regarding him and Neal had always been fictitious. He never did the horrible things he wrote that he’d done to Neal. “Will you help me with this?” Neal asked quietly. “I’m used to…fucking and breeding.”

Nodding, Peter took Neal’s hand and led him over to the large bed. “Lie down on your back and tell me if it hurts.” Neal did as Peter asked and he winced a little. “Okay. We’ll—”

“Please let me stay like this,” Neal requested.

Peter silenced himself and nodded. He wanted Neal to know he had as much of a say in this as he did. Outside of these chambers, he is Neal’s master and Neal is his sex slave. Within these chamber walls, he and Neal became lovers—equals. “Anything you’d like, my love.” Neal watched Peter as Peter kissed his body from his naval up to his jaw. Neal was hard already and Peter was glad he was pleasing Neal without actually connecting with his body. “Have you ever had a man prepare you for him?” Neal shook his head. “All right. Well, I’m going to show you how I prepare my lover.”

Neal kissed Peter when Peter pressed their lips together because he desperately wanted Peter’s touch in any way at all. Slowly, Peter separated their lips and began to pepper kisses down Neal’s body once again until he’d reached Neal’s cock. Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out and licked the head of Neal’s cock, eliciting a quiet moan from Neal as Neal threw his head back. As far as Peter knew, Neal’s cock had never actually been stimulated by anyone. He didn’t even know if Neal had ever orgasmed, to be completely honest. Right now wasn’t the time to ask that though. After this, Neal would know what lovemaking really was.

Slowly, Peter sucked Neal’s length into his mouth and bobbed his head up and down while watching Neal’s face. He loved how pleased and ecstatic Neal looked. This was probably the most sensual attention Neal had ever received in a sexual situation. Not to Peter’s surprise, Neal came quickly. Neal shuddered as he softly cried Peter’s name as quietly as he could manage so Peter could hear him. He knew he couldn’t scream to the high heavens, but they were able to speak to each other. “Did I c-come too soon?” he whispered.

Peter swallowed Neal’s seed without hesitation before lifting his head so he could speak to his lover. “No. You’re doing wonderfully so far. Considering you’re as young as you are, I think I can love a few more orgasms out of you.” Neal smiled at him, looking exhausted already. Peter couldn’t blame him. Considering his anorexia and what he’d just witnessed in the hall outside of his cell as well as with the whips, Peter understood that Neal was tired. Perhaps Neal would get some rest once they were finished.

Tentatively, Peter lifted his right hand and brought his index and middle finger to Neal’s mouth. Neal didn’t hesitate to suck on them and Peter didn’t exactly know why unless someone did that to him while fucking him. Nonetheless, Peter waited until he believed his fingers were coated with enough of Neal’s saliva. He brought his hand back to himself and spread Neal’s legs slowly before he gingerly slid his middle finger into Neal. Neal moaned again and the sound made Peter’s heart flutter.

Peter used his middle finger for a short while before inserting his index finger into Neal as well, opening him up using scissoring motions. “That feels amazing,” Neal whispered. Peter smiled at him even though Neal’s eyes were closed. He decided to try something else to see if it had the same effect on Neal. Removing his fingers from the young man’s body, he shifted around and lowered his head until he was within range to tentatively use his tongue, probing Neal with it. He tried not to think of all the men Neal had sex with before because it certainly wasn’t Neal’s fault. Neal let out a shuddering moan and Peter’s body was squeezed between Neal’s legs—not that Peter had a problem with that. Neal had never been sexually appreciated by anyone before.

Neal started making needy sounds that Peter had never heard before. He’d fucked his fair share of men—nowhere near as many men as Neal had been fucked by—and Neal’s sounds were so unique. “Tell me what you want,” Peter said quietly, hoping he could encourage Neal to ask for something he wanted.

“I want to feel you.” He opened his eyes and said, “Can I return the favor first?”

There was a brief moment of silence between them before Peter whispered, “You want to…lick me?”

Eyes wide, Neal shook his head. “I-I… I want to suck on you. I wouldn’t go anywhere near your ass.” Peter’s brows furrowed as he wondered why Neal said that. Neal sat up and cringed in pain, so Peter quickly disposed of his clothing before getting back onto the bed, straddling Neal’s upper torso. Neal didn’t have to sit up or move his body since Peter was doing it all for him. Neal just wanted to taste him, so it didn’t really bother him that he wasn’t giving Peter a proper blowjob.

Neal’s hands slid over Peter’s bare thighs as Peter kept gently thrusting into his mouth. “Are you doing okay?” Peter asked, pulling out of Neal’s mouth to make sure he wasn’t hurting his lover.

Raising an eyebrow, Neal said, “You do realize I have no gag reflex, right? You can go as deep as you’d like.”

“How deep do you want me?” He was trying to give Neal the opportunity to make decisions because he felt like Neal deserved that at the very least. He didn’t lie down on this bed so Peter could get himself off. He wanted Peter to make love to him and Peter wanted Neal to experience it as a free man would experience lovemaking.

Shrugging, he said, “As deep as you can, I guess.”

Peter hesitated, but he did as Neal asked. If Neal wanted to be deepthroated, that was what he was going to do for Neal. Slowly, he slid his length into Neal’s open and willing mouth. He lowered himself slowly and actually did like the fact that he could go further than he’d ever gone with anyone else before. Neal, at the age of eighteen, had a better gag reflex than the thirty year old men Peter had been with after divorcing his wife. He’d never had a romantic relationship with any of those men because all he wanted was sex so he could get his mind off of the idea that he’d lose his rights to his son, that he wouldn’t be there for the birth of his son, and a whole slew of other complications revolving around not being able to see his son. Alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes weren’t exactly ideal distractions if he wanted to spend time with his son, so he’d gone to gay bars and fucked men in their own apartments instead. For quite some time, he’d believed he was becoming addicted to sex.

Now, as he carefully moved to allow Neal to suck on him, he realized that he wasn’t as sex crazed as he thought he was. With the other men, it’d been simple: meet, fuck, come, and go home. He never saw those men more than once.

In a matter of moments, Peter was asking, “Can I make love to you or do you want to stay like this?”

Neal tentatively pushed Peter up a bit and Peter did as Neal wanted, pulling himself out of Neal’s mouth. “I think we’ll be okay now. Make love to me.”

Peter nodded, shifting around so he was hovering over his lover. “If I hurt you, please tell me. When you and I are together like this, I’m not your master. I’m your Peter.” Neal’s eyes lit up after Peter said that. Peter simply smiled in response. “If you’re hurting, tell me. It’s not my intention to cause you pain or irritate your scars.” Neal nodded. His eyes dimmed at the mention of his internal scars, but Peter didn’t want him dwelling on that. He leaned forward and kissed Neal sweetly while slowly positioning himself before sliding into his lover. Neal gasped when Peter only slid half of his length in and Peter stared at Neal in horror. “Stop?” he asked frantically. Neal shook his head. “What’s wrong? I need you to talk to me. Don’t hide your pain from me.”

“I’m not in pain,” Neal admitted. “It feels so good to have you inside of me.” He stared up into Peter’s eyes and lifted his hands to hold Peter’s shoulders. “You fill me perfectly, like no one else ever has. Everyone was either too small, too big, too…something. Nobody fit like this. Nobody made me feel like this.”

Peter took care of his lover like no one ever had before and he knew how much it meant to Neal to have someone consider him, his feelings, and his thoughts. Neal felt comfortable enough to express his pleasure, he told Peter when their lovemaking hurt a little, and he even asked Peter some questions. Neal was no novice when it came to sex, but he certainly was when it came to lovemaking. He didn’t know what to expect or how to act, but Peter made him understand that his silence wasn’t welcome. If Neal had something to say, whether it be that he’s pleased or in pain or he just wanted to speak, Neal didn’t need permission.

Approximately fifty minutes in, Peter slid his arm underneath Neal, attempting to avoid Neal’s wounds as best he could, so he could pull Neal’s body closer to him. Neal’s arms were wrapped around his neck, his face was buried into Peter’s shoulder, and his legs were bent and squeezing Peter’s body. “I love you,” he whispered in Neal’s ear. Moments later, his lips were on Neal’s neck. He was trying not to leave any hickeys on Neal’s neck because others would wonder who’d actually taken the time to show Neal that kind of affection. He’d bruised Neal’s hips and Neal created several crescent marks on Peter’s thighs, chest, shoulders, and back. In all honesty, Peter loved it. He’d been irritated by a few sexual partners who’d been needy and clawed at him, but he loved that Neal was doing exactly that for some reason. “I love you so much, baby.” Neal was panting against him. He was close to his third orgasm, so he didn’t think he’d be able to form a coherent thought let alone a coherent sentence. “You’re so beautiful… So, so beautiful…”

Neal began to cry against Peter then. Even though he himself didn’t feel like he could say everything he wanted and needed to say, he truly appreciated how Peter was taking the time to make him feel loved and appreciated. Peter had never lied to him before they had sex—he didn’t consider Neal just a hole for him to use. Their love was made slowly, but that made it passionate. Neal was used to being roughed up and having things finished quickly. This was all new to him—and he welcomed this new experience, especially since he shared it with Peter.

“Peter,” he whispered thickly, accidentally nipping at Peter’s neck as he came. Peter was kissing the side of Neal’s face and occasionally planted several kisses on Neal’s neck. He eventually rested Neal on the bed and simply held himself above Neal as he made love to Neal. He wanted to come, but he didn’t want Neal’s pleasure and happiness to come to an end. That was when he realized Neal’s eyes were a little teary and there were tear tracks running down the sides of his face and cheeks. “I’m not upset,” Neal immediately said once he noticed that Peter was staring at his tears. “I’ve never felt this good before—never. I’ve never felt like this sexually and I’ve never felt like this in general.”

Peter captured Neal’s lips in another gentle kiss. In a way, he was teaching Neal how to kiss. They were always very careful about expressing their feelings outwardly when Neal was in his cell or when they briefly saw each other before Neal had to leave with a man who only wanted his body. “You deserve love,” Peter said softly against Neal’s lips. “I want to give it all to you.”

Neal smiled up at him and whispered, “Come inside of me. I’ll have all of your love then.”

Evidently, Neal was okay with finishing now. Peter continued thrusting into his boyfriend, eliciting quiet sounds from him that aroused Peter further. Even though Neal only said Peter’s name when he came repeatedly, Peter let out a slightly loud gasp and moan at the same time. Neal moaned with him as Peter released inside of him.

Both of them were quiet. The only sounds in the room were that of their breathing. Neal stared up at his lover in amazement. He found it really interesting that Peter hadn’t touched his cock once while thrusting into him, yet he managed to pull three orgasms out of Neal. “I love you, Neal. You mean so much to me.”

Neal gently framed Peter’s face with his hands and continued smiling. “I love you, Peter. I can’t tell you just how much you mean to me. After everything you’ve done for me… There are no words to describe what you mean to me. All I can say is that I don’t know how I’d live without you.”

Carefully, Peter slid out of his boyfriend’s body and plopped down onto the bed beside him, staring at his face. “I’m yours, baby. You don’t have to live without me.”

Furrowing his brows, Neal said, “We’ve been together for almost three years now and you haven’t used pet names until recently. What’s with that?”

“I…didn’t know if you’d like them,” Peter said quietly, lifting his hand to stroke Neal’s jaw. “I’m kind of testing it out now to see what you think.”

Neal accepted that answer. “I like it. I was just curious.” After a few moments of silence, Neal asked, “Is there anything I can call you that you’d like aside from your name?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t really have a preference for anything. My ex and I called each other ‘hon’ all the time, but that was a habit we created together.”

“Well, if you call me baby, can I call you babe?” Peter smiled at him and Neal took that as an affirmative. “I’ve never done this relationship stuff before, so I’m really clueless. I’ve heard ‘babe’ before, but I can’t remember where I heard it.”

Peter slid his hand down to rest on Neal’s chest. “I like it.”

Neal searched Peter’s eyes before asking, “Have you ever enjoyed doing kinky things in bed?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard a lot of things… However, I’m asking you because I kind of like the idea of calling you my master in bed.” Peter stared at him in horror. He didn’t like how this sounded, especially since he knew that Neal’s mother had to call Neal’s father her master in bed. “Not as an all the time thing, of course, but… I’m used to saying ‘master.’ I think I might go crazy if I don’t call you that when I’m free.”

Sighing, Peter whispered, “I’ve never done anything like _that_ in bed before, but I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it as long as you remember that we’re equals no matter what. I respect and love you. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you.” Neal turned onto his side and scooted closer to Peter. Peter tried not to react to Neal’s bony legs touching his. He’d managed to keep his thoughts away from Neal’s anorexia while they were making love, but it was difficult otherwise because he felt like the littlest touch would break Neal. “When you’re free, you never have to ask me for permission to do anything ever again.”

Neal nodded and whispered, “When I’m free, no one will be my master ever again.”


	6. Chapter 6

Neal was on his knees with his arms twisted so that his hands were tied behind his back. Peter warned him in advance and promised he’d listen for Neal’s sounds. If Neal screamed, Peter would burst into the room and come to his rescue. Since they’d begun making love together, it was incredibly difficult for Peter to sign his name at the bottom of the paperwork that allowed men to use his lover’s body. Peter tried to hold it together during the day, but he crumbled and confessed to Neal that he felt awful every night. As much as Neal hated seeing Peter so upset, he knew it was just something the two of them had to deal with right now. If men were suddenly denied their requests, the General was more than likely to question Peter, inquiring as to why Peter felt it was necessary to deny the needs of other men and the use of a whore. Peter was sick every single time he went home because he regretted allowing this.

Every single night Peter had gone home, being around Tyler was difficult. His ex-wife was home and recovering, but she allowed Peter to keep Tyler until she was fully healed. Peter’s parents watched Tyler while he was suffering at work, but Peter came home emotionally and mentally drained each night. Leaving Neal alone in his cell scared the shit out of him. He never liked leaving with the knowledge that someone could pay the man who was in charge of the hall at night and have permission granted for them to rape Neal. Despite knowing that these roles were roles they needed to play for the time being, Peter wished he could stay with Neal without anyone questioning him. When Neal is free, things will be different. Peter was certain that he’d never feel so hollow again once Neal was away from this and given the opportunity to start a brand new life for himself that didn’t include touching another man’s dick, having another man’s dick shoved into him, or being forced to do anything with another man’s dick that he didn’t want to do. Neal would be free to do as he pleases—not bend to the will of others and do what pleases them.

Until the specialist returned stateside, Neal had to continue living as he’d lived for nearly five years. A month prior to when he was set to see the specialist Mozzie recommended would be his fifth year spent in this hell—and his nineteenth birthday. “It’s a pity I’m not allowed to breed you.” Neal swallowed, but he kept his eyes lowered to the floor as he’d been directed to. “I know masters want to be the only ones with the privilege of breeding their sluts.” Anger flared up in Neal, but he didn’t outwardly express his anger. Even as the man grabbed his hair and yanked his head backwards, he stared up at the man as though he weren’t affected at all. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, the breeders who’d first raped him in the van when he was fourteen had changed him entirely.

He didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about being in that van, but the fact that he was nearing his possible freedom had him backtracking into his doubts. He felt like this would be his life for the rest of his life unless some miracle happened and all of this ended permanently—for all slaves, domestic and sexual.

The man spit on Neal’s face and Neal knew he shouldn’t lash out, but he was tired of being treated this way. After experiencing lovemaking with Peter, he hated being forced into sex with other men more than he had before. In response to the man’s derogatory action, Neal leaned to his right and spun enough before biting the naked man’s leg. The man cried out and Neal sneered silently.

Moments later, Neal was shoved forward rather roughly and his head collided with the hard floor. His eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness as the man began to rape him. For once, this was a mercy on his behalf.

In all honesty, Neal appreciated his concussion. Losing consciousness while being raped was preferable to being awake for it.

•◊•

When Neal awakened, he’d expected to be back in his cell because he assumed Peter would’ve come looking for him and would personally carry him back to the safety and security of his cell. Unfortunately, that was not the case. He was elevated—his wrists were firmly bound on either side of his head and his ankles were shackled in a way that his ass was available for essentially anyone to use at this point. There was a gag in his mouth that prevented him from closing it and he was panicking. He didn’t know what was happening and he wanted Peter.

A door suddenly opened and a man chuckled. “Ah. Here’s my bitch.” Neal recognized the voice as the man who’d knocked him unconscious. “You’re getting what you deserve.” Neal didn’t understand what that meant until he heard the man unzipping his pants. Shutting his eyes, he waited for the inevitable penetration.

However, that wasn’t exactly what happened. The man came to stand beside him, grabbed his jaw, and forced him to look at him. Before Neal could consider speaking without permission, the man began to piss on him. Neal immediately startled and tried to shift away, but he couldn’t.

Neal spit it out and the man grabbed himself to stop his stream and slapped Neal with the other hand. “No!” Neal pleaded. He’d heard in recent weeks that disobedient slaves were receiving a new kind of punishment that the General had implemented, but Neal hadn’t known what it was—until now anyway.

“You’re a toilet, you whore,” the man growled. “You’re a piece of shit after all. And a worthless piece of shit at that.” Neal’s eyes were watering as the man continued going about his business. Before Neal had the chance to spit again, his mouth was covered. “Swallow, whore.” Neal refused. He wasn’t going to demean himself to the point where he was swallowing another man’s piss. “Swallow, damn it!” The man hit Neal with the hand that wasn’t placed over Neal’s mouth and, eventually, Neal swallowed just so the pain would end. “There you go.” Neal was crying silently as he stared up at the monster. “I guess it’s a good thing you were such a bitch when I was going to fuck you. Pissing on you is all the more satisfying.” He slapped Neal hard and laughed at him. “What a slut. You were born to be fucked and you were also born to take all of our bodily fluids. I’m not allowed to come or piss in your ass, but I can definitely use your mouth to my advantage.”

After the man finished hitting Neal several more times and fingered him violently, the man left and Neal was left sobbing in the master’s bathroom.

For a total of forty-eight hours, Neal had been left in the bathroom to be used sexually and as personal toilet for anyone who decided to enter and didn’t want to use the urinals—or the stalls. He was absolutely filthy after two days. He was covered in piss—his own and that of other men—and shit. He didn’t think he’d ever have an appetite ever again after everything those monsters made him do.

While he’d been there, he hadn’t seen Peter once and that was breaking his heart and hurting him so much more than anything he’d been put through recently.

When the door opened, Neal just accepted his current fate and was mentally preparing himself for whoever wanted to piss or shit on him next. “Oh, Jesus Christ!” Neal’s eyes flew open when he recognized Peter’s voice. “Neal…” His voice sounded awful and the way he said his lover’s name held so much pain within it. Peter neared him immediately and saw how Neal’s face and mouth had been abused after two days. He’d tried desperately to stop Hughes from doing this to Neal, but he’d been ordered to leave the grounds for two days, which meant he could return when Neal’s punishment was over. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Peter looked at the floor and saw blood. He wanted to check Neal’s ass because he knew that someone had irritated and quite possibly reopened his internal wounds, but he decided getting Neal out of here was what needed to be done first.

As soon as Neal was freed from his shackles, Peter tried to help him stand, but Neal collapsed. He was starving and he felt so embarrassed and disgusting. “Just let me die,” Neal said. Peter knelt beside him and removed the gag from his mouth. “Please. Please just kill me,” he whispered as he sobbed. “I can’t… I can’t live like this…” Peter couldn’t help crying as he listened to his boyfriend. “I want to die. I want to die.” In such an agonized and tortured way, Neal nearly screamed, “I want to _die!_ ” He couldn’t think coherently. His mind was just screaming and begging for a quick death.

“Neal,” Peter stammered, “please don’t say that. Please, Neal.”

Painfully, Neal pushed himself up. “I can’t live like this,” he repeated as he stared at the older man miserably. “Please find a gun and shoot me. Please. I’m begging you.”

Peter didn’t listen to him. For the next hour, Peter spent time crying in the shower with Neal as he scrubbed every inch of Neal’s skin and hair, and attempted to clean his mouth. Neal was on autopilot and just allowed Peter to do whatever he wanted to do. He couldn’t move because of how he’d been restrained for two days and he honestly lost the will to live after the first twelve hours of humiliation. “I can’t live without you,” Peter said as he cried in front of Neal. “Please don’t ask me to kill you. I can’t do it. I could never kill you.”

Neal felt selfish for upsetting Peter with his suicidal outburst, but he didn’t know how to cope with this. It wasn’t like Peter understood how it felt to be used in a variety of disgusting ways, so talking to Peter about what he was put through didn’t exactly help either. He was experiencing anxiety as he listened to Peter cry. He couldn’t look at him because he didn’t want to see the pain he’d caused the man who took care of him in any way that he could.

Instead of returning Neal to his cell, Peter took Neal into the personal chambers where they could be alone—where absolutely no one could bother them.

Peter unclipped Neal’s leash from his collar and Neal instantly dropped to his knees in front of Peter. Staring down at Neal in horror, Peter wasn’t quite sure if Neal were submitting himself to him or if he were exhausted and couldn’t stand upright anymore. “I’m sorry, master,” he whispered brokenly, nuzzling his face against Peter’s leg as though he were a pet showing its owner affection.

“Neal, stop it,” Peter said thickly. He lifted his right hand to wipe his own tears away as he breathed shakily. “I love you and I’m so sorry for not protecting you to the best of my ability…” Neal kept rubbing his face against Peter’s leg submissively until Peter had enough of this and gripped Neal’s hair roughly, yanking him back so he was forced to stop. “I don’t want this. I don’t want your submission. I want to get you out of here so fucking bad.”

Neal finally looked at his face and Peter could see how broken and haunted Neal looked. He was physically wasting away as Daniel had mentioned when he’d seen Neal for the first time, but his liveliness in general was now beginning to waste away. There was no hope or positivity in Neal’s eyes now. “I’m sorry.” Neal flinched when Peter’s hand moved as though he wanted to strike Neal. Peter realized that he hadn’t said ‘master’ after his apology, so he’d stopped himself from hitting Neal. “I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I don’t like the way I’m feeling.”

Peter got down on his own knees and caressed Neal’s face in his hands, whispering, “You have nothing to apologize for.” He rubbed his thumbs over Neal’s cheekbones gently. “You have every right to act this way, Neal. You’ve been treated like shit all your life and it’s finally beginning to destroy you. You’re overwhelmed, stressed out, and all of this seems like a hopeless situation.” Neal’s eyes watered because he realized that Peter did understand, but his understanding was slightly different in comparison. “I’ve never felt as horrible as you feel, but I wish I could. I wish I could take your pain away.” Neal closed his eyes as he began to silently cry. “Neal, you’re everything to me. I’m going to ask if we can speed things along. I’ll tell him how you’ve been treated and tell him that you don’t think you can keep going on like this until the doctor returns.”

“What choice do I have?” Neal asked miserably. “I’m a slave. I bend to everyone’s will, Peter. I can’t control my life or what happens to me.”

“But I do,” Peter said fiercely, “and I’m going to get you the hell out of here.”

After a few minutes, Peter managed to get Neal on his feet long enough for him to make it to the bed. Neal was sitting on the large bed in Peter’s chambers—at the center with his legs crossed. He was messing with a wound he’d received while he’d been in the master’s bathroom. Peter noticed as he was on his backup phone and he approached Neal, gripping his wrist firmly. Neal looked up at Peter apologetically until Peter readjusted his grip and held his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I…”

Peter shook his head. He was waiting for Mozzie to answer the phone, but Neal could see the love in Peter’s eyes—love and determination. Just as he was going to say something to Neal, he startled and said, “Yes. Hello. It’s me.” There was a brief pause before Peter was rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t call you if this weren’t urgent. Mozzie, I need— _Neal_ needs severe help.” Neal shut his eyes, looking defeated, as Peter told Mozzie about what had just happened over the last two days. Peter’s grip on Neal’s hand was firm, but gentle and Neal could feel Peter’s eyes on him. “Please tell me you can have your doctor return ahead of schedule. I don’t know how much longer Neal can live like this… I can’t watch him suffer. He… He more than deserves to be free.” Peter lifted Neal’s hand, pressing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Mere seconds later, Peter was groaning. “If I were capable of ripping the damn things out of him without harming him, I would have done it a long time ago!” he hissed quietly.

Biting his lip, Neal gripped Peter’s forearm with his other hand to draw Peter’s attention. “Patience,” he whispered. “Calm. Anger isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

The older man heaved a heavy sigh of frustration and nodded at his lover. “I know there are so many others who are suffering, Mozzie, but I… I love Neal and I don’t want him to go through this anymore. He’s been tortured in ways that I can’t even begin to imagine. As a former slave—” Neal could vaguely hear Mozzie yelling something at Peter. “As a former slave,” Peter growled, “you know how desperate situations become. Neal wanted me to kill him to put him out of his misery.” Neal leaned against him, closing his eyes as he listened to Peter fume. “What would you prefer? Would you prefer that I allow him to suffer until all of this kills him or would you prefer to expedite the return of your doctor so he can finally be free?”

After a few moments, Peter was rolling his eyes again. He sat down and held the phone out towards Neal. In response, Neal stared up at him in horror because he’d never used a phone before. He didn’t exactly know what to expect. “No,” Neal whispered.

Peter’s brows furrowed as he noticed the fear in Neal’s eyes. “Neal, it’s a communication device. It won’t harm you. You can speak freely—and Mozzie is on the other end. He wants to speak to you personally.” Neal looked frightened, which made Peter want to sob. The little things he took for granted in his life were the things that Neal didn’t understand or that Neal was frightened by. Something as simple as a phone frightened him. “Baby, I promise it’ll be okay.” Neal couldn’t stop his tears as they escaped his eyes. He was afraid to use the phone because he’d heard his father scream into one when he was young and was subsequently beaten for no reason at all—for no reason that pertained to him anyway. Sighing quietly and sadly, Peter whispered, “He…can’t speak on the phone.” Neal heard Mozzie raise his voice and he began to cry harder. He felt embarrassed for acting this way, for being unable to carry out such a simple request Peter had given him.

Staring at Neal in absolute horror, Peter immediately said he would call Mozzie back later. Mozzie knew something was really wrong considering he could hear Neal. Peter tossed his phone aside where it accidentally hit the post at the end of the bed and Neal jumped, letting out a fearful cry. “Don’t!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do it!”

The older man began to hush his boyfriend as his heart pounded. “Neal, it’s okay,” Peter tried to tell him. “No one is going to hurt you. I won’t hurt you.” Neal was sobbing in front of him, gripping his face in such a strange way. He was protecting his eyes and cheeks in such a way that Peter had never seen before. “Baby, you’re okay. You’re with your Peter.” He was relieved when Neal seemed to be aware of that and moved towards him, curling up against his chest haphazardly in their seated positions. He slid his hand over Neal’s back and combed his fingers through Neal’s hair alternatively, hushing him as he’d hushed Tyler when Tyler had a nightmare. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Neal lowered his hands and opened his eyes. “Don’t make me use it,” he whispered. “He… He hurt me… I can’t…”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Peter asked, “Mozzie hurt you?” Neal shook his head. “Who hurt you?”

“My fa—” Neal shook his head violently, stopping himself. “My master. He hurt me.” Peter frowned as he continued rubbing his hand over Neal’s body soothingly. “I don’t know why. He was yelling—I went into the room to see why and stupidly asked him why he was mad.” Peter closed his eyes because he understood now. “I wasn’t supposed to speak to him. He slapped me first and then abused me next.” Neal’s eyes began to water as he whispered, “He wrapped the cord around my neck and tried to strangle me—until my mom came in. She freed me, he beat her, and then he took me into my room where I was beaten.” Peter forced himself not to cry at he listened to Neal. Whenever Neal said things like this, he recognized that it was Neal’s way of showing him where his trust and loyalty lies. To open up like this, he had to trust Peter a great deal. Peter never really doubted Neal’s loyalty, but its genuineness had always been questionable—until they’d fallen in love. “He broke my cheekbone when he hit me. I was told that it never set properly because no one helped me.”

Peter breathed shakily, whispering, “I didn’t even notice, to be honest with you.” Neal’s brows furrowed. He looked up at Peter, wondering how he couldn’t have noticed. “Neal, you’re perfect to me as you are. I love you as you are.” He kissed Neal’s forehead. “I love the way you look, the way—”

Neal made an enraged sound and moved faster than Peter had ever seen him move before. He lurched off of the bed and headed over to the full length mirror. Peter watched him sneer at his own reflection. He ran his hands over his face, his ribs, his hips… “Fuck you, Peter,” he whispered, shutting his eyes as he looked away from himself. “I’m so disgusting. I’m barely alive.”

“You’re alive,” Peter insisted. “When you’re free, you’ll be healthy. I will personally make arrangements for you in France and pay for every bit of it. You get to eat when you want, sleep when you want, bathe when you want… Everything in your life will finally be yours to control.”

The young man was quiet before whispering, “I just won’t have you in France…”

Peter’s heart ached as he watched his boyfriend. “I will sort things out and I promise I’ll join you in France. As soon as you’re out of the country, only I will know where you are.” Neal opened his eyes, turning to look at the older man simultaneously. “I’ve looked into a living place for you that I hope you’ll like. It has television, plenty of food, a gym… I mean, it’s a suite, but it’ll be a temporary living place until I join you. When we’re together, I’m going to buy you a home that belongs to you.”

“To us,” Neal corrected him. “When we’re together in France, we’ll be equals on every level.” Peter smiled softly at him and nodded. “No more forced sex. No more pretending to be this master-slave dynamic. You won’t be forced to have sex with me so we aren’t killed.”

Sliding off of the bed, Peter approached Neal and nodded. “It’ll be different. Sex will be a joint decision. I’ve agreed to very light master-slave roleplay, but I will never treat you like my slave ever again after this. When we have sex, it’ll be for us—not to prove to some sick fucks that I know how to ‘handle’ you…” Neal rested his hand over Peter’s heart, staring longingly into his eyes. “I will make sure your life is better. No more beatings, whippings, isolation… No more punishments. I will take care of you in a way that you fully deserve and in a way that makes you happy.”

As Peter slid his arms around Neal’s waist and kissed his forehead, Neal’s diminished hopes were beginning to slowly rejuvenate. He didn’t think he would ever make it out of this alive, but Peter was trying to encourage him to think positively, to feel like his future would be happier—better. He wanted this to become more than just a dream and he knew Peter would do whatever he could to make this work.

•◊•

Daniel and Diana watched their son sob in front of them in their own living room. Tyler was playing quietly in a different room, but Peter was a mess. “Peter, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Neal?” Daniel was trying to figure out why his son was so upset, but he had the feeling that it had to do with Neal in some way. “Son, talk to us. Please.”

“I need help,” was all Peter managed to say when he wasn’t crying or gasping for breath. “I need to get him out before he does something that gets himself killed.” Daniel and Diana stared at Peter in horror, wondering why Neal might do something so drastic. “I can’t even begin to describe to you what he’s been through lately, but I just need help getting him out.” He rubbed his face roughly as he breathed shakily. “I don’t know what to do. I need to free him. I need to stop his suffering.”

Diana took a seat beside her son and held him, stroking his hair gently. “Relax, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Have you spoken to Mozzie?” Peter nodded miserably. “Would he be able to speed things along?”

“Not until he talks to Neal and confirms that things are as bad as I told him. The specialist who can help Neal is busy and he doesn’t want to jerk her away from her medical duties if things aren’t severe.” Daniel’s brows furrowed as he listened to his son. “Neal won’t speak on the phone. He’s too afraid to.”

“Does it have to do with that father-master-monster?” Peter nodded again. “I wish I knew who the son of a bitch was so I could torment him the way he’s tormented this poor boy.” Peter looked at his father and the older man looked confused before his confusion morphed into anger. “Do I know him, Peter?” The fact that Peter swallowed nervously indicated that he did know the man. “Tell me who he is.”

Peter shook his head. “He can’t know you know about Neal. He can’t know you want Neal to be free.”

Daniel said, “Just tell me who he is so I know not to invite him over for dinner anytime soon.” Peter frowned at him, which began to infuriate Daniel. “God damn it, Peter. Tell me who this monster is.”

Peter whispered, “Bennett.” Daniel’s eyes widened. “James is his father. James raped his mother and created him to be a personal slave in a non-sexual way.” Daniel was gaping at his son, which told Peter that his father hadn’t expected James Bennett to be such a monster. Peter remained silent as he watched his father’s anger begin to blossom outwardly.

“That bastard traumatized the poor boy into sitting on the floor as his ‘master’ eats and into fearing that he’d be punished if he made such a simple mess during dinner? That bastard traumatized him and made him act like he’s nothing more than a slave? That _bastard_ traumatized and hurt his own child?” Peter swallowed hard and nodded. “Oh, if I ever come into contact with that son of a bitch ever again…” He made a sound of disgust. James had been a childhood friend and he didn’t realize James worked within the slave business nor did he realize James had ever owned a slave at all. James never spoke about a slave nor did he mention having a son. Daniel had excitedly told James about Peter when Peter was born, but Peter hadn’t met James prior to Peter meeting him within the business. “His own child is too afraid to do anything a normal person could do without thinking about it. He tormented the boy and shattered him before he even had a chance to live his life the way he deserves to.”

“I know,” Peter said brokenly. “I met him on the grounds and I almost let him take Neal for ‘sexual’ reasons, which weren’t sexual at all.” Daniel looked like he didn’t quite understand what his son was saying. “Neal speculated that his father came back for him because he wanted Neal to serve him again. In no way would that monster ever free Neal the way I intend to free him. His son is just an object to him rather than a living, breathing, human being.” Peter breathed shakily and whispered, “He is a terrible, terrible man. He’s a slave master and he’s a trader. He does terrible things to slaves that I can’t even begin to imagine. Neal’s mother, for example, endured so much hell because the bastard wanted to have a child—wanted to use a child as a slave because he’s so power hungry.” Both of Peter’s parents looked infuriated by that. “I can’t imagine living the way Neal had to. I can’t imagine you two forcing me to call you my masters rather than my parents—or beating me when I’ve done nothing wrong.” Glancing in the direction his son was in, he listened to Tyler play happily. “I can’t imagine doing that to my own son. I love Ty the way Neal should have been loved by James. James abused his ‘privilege’ to own another human being when he raped his slave and created a child. Neal never deserved this.”

Daniel crouched in front of his son and rested his hands on Peter’s thighs. “Tell me what we can do, Peter. Tell me how we can break him out of there.”

Peter closed his eyes as he whispered, “The summer house we used to stay in. Was it ever linked to us?”

“No,” Diana said softly. “There isn’t a paper trail or a trail of any kind that would lead that house to us.”

As Peter opened his eyes and met his father’s gaze, he said, “I’m going to try to cut Neal’s tracker and explosive out of him because I don’t know if I can rely on Mozzie’s specialist.” His parents looked horrified when they realized their son was going to harm Neal to help him. “I’m going to remove the explosive first and make sure he won’t die when I remove his tracker. I’m going to break him out of the grounds immediately thereafter and take him to the summer house, but they’ll assume I freed him. That means they’ll investigate me—quite possibly my ex—and you two.”

Daniel and Diana shared a brief look with each other before Daniel asked, “Peter, are you able to do this without killing him? I know you told me this would be difficult—or at least removing his explosive would be difficult.” Peter looked upset by the reminder. “I mean, I am more than happy to help you get him out of there. By all means, I want to see the boy freed. I’m just concerned about this removal you plan on doing yourself. You aren’t exactly knowledgeable of medical procedures.”

“I called someone I know who does these things. I didn’t want to speak to him at first, but I did out of desperation. He told me how I can attempt to safely remove the explosive. Once that’s out of him, it’ll be easy. His explosive isn’t tracked the way his collar and tracker are. They won’t know his explosive was removed.”

His father’s brows furrowed. “Why can’t you just have this man remove it himself? Wouldn’t that be safer for Neal?”

Peter looked exasperated as he asked, “And how am I supposed to get a doctor in to see him for no reason at all? Aside from the fact that he is unbelievably thin, there’s nothing wrong with him physically. I can’t call a doctor in to speak about his mental wellbeing because he’s not supposed to have this self-awareness that he has.” Daniel looked at his son apologetically because he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to help his son free his young boyfriend. “Neal isn’t a mindless slave. He may act like one at times, but it’s all he knows. He’s almost nineteen years old and he’s been in the system for almost fourteen years of his life, but he’s always been a slave in one way or another.” Peter rubbed at his face in frustration. “I know so many young boys and young men suffer the way Neal is suffering, but I can’t watch him go through this. He’s the only slave I’ve ever claimed on the grounds, the only man I’ve ever loved, and I can’t stand this. I can’t stand watching him suffer like this anymore.” His parents were trying to understand this, but they honestly couldn’t imagine how either of the two young men felt. “Imagine watching mom suffer,” Peter whispered. “Imagine having to stand by idly as she’s starved and forced to willingly follow a man you know is going to rape her. Imagine how I feel when I bring him back to his cell. He’s in tears at times and I know he was hurt in more ways than one—more ways than I could ever possibly help him.”

Diana was quick to take her son’s hand in her own. “We will help you, Peter,” she whispered sincerely. “We’ll help him. I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is for you.” Daniel looked horrified by everything Peter had just described to him because he could only imagine how awful Peter felt. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he were forced to watch his wife suffer the way Neal has suffered. “We can park our car near the grounds and have you rush him out to us. If you stay on the grounds, they may not suspect you.”

“I could make it look like he escaped from within his cell…” Peter whispered. “I can leave blood on the floor, leave whatever I’m going to cut him with on the floor, and I can probably manage to alter his cell. I’ve seen other slaves dig holes in the floor or walls to escape…”

Smiling at her son encouragingly, she nodded. “Do that. Your father and I will be waiting outside of the grounds. Discuss a plan of action with Neal beforehand. Is there a safe route he could take to escape without being caught?”

Peter hesitated before nodding. “His cell is close enough to an area that isn’t under surveillance. If you park there, he can run to you without being seen on camera.” He began to describe the area he was referring to to his parents so they would know where to park. They’d driven past the grounds before, so they knew where Peter wanted them to be. “Tomorrow night, he’s getting the hell out of there. I’ll call you to let you know that he’s going to make a break for it. Do not answer my call unless I call you twice. If I call twice, something went wrong and he won’t be able to escape.”

Nodding, the two looked at each other and smiled faintly. “Just try to be careful, Peter. If he can hold out until the specialist returns, please don’t try to rush this. I know how much you love him,” Daniel said quietly. “I know how much you love him, but please don’t let your love for him impair your judgment. One mistake and the two of you could both wind up dead.” Peter heard Tyler laughing quietly in the other room and his eyes welled up with tears. “Think about your son as well, Peter. If you do something too quickly just to get Neal out, you could lose your life and your son would lose his father.”

Peter continued listening to his son play in the other room and it was breaking his heart. He didn’t know if he could do this without getting himself and Neal executed, but he wanted to try for Neal’s sake. However, as much as he loves Neal, he didn’t think he would be able to do something that would make him abandon his own son. Neal wouldn’t agree to anything unless he was certain this would work. Neal loves Tyler, too, and he didn’t want Peter to leave Tyler either.

This was such a difficult decision for Peter. The two people he loves more than anything—aside from his parents—were relying on him in different, but similar ways. Tyler and Neal relied on him for protection, love, and care. Tyler relied on him for a variety of things that revolved around his own entertainment and survival, but Neal relied on Peter heavily for survival because he had no parental figure to care for him the way Tyler has Peter.

Tyler wanted Peter to be in his life to raise him, to watch him grow up, and Neal wanted Peter to free him so they could be together without all of this suffering in their lives.

Peter shut his eyes tightly as he silently began to cry. He didn’t know what to do, but he felt like he was falling apart. He loves Neal and Tyler so damn much, but he never wanted to do anything that harmed either of them or jeopardized their happiness—or life.

One way or another, Peter wanted to free his lover without either of them being executed. He was determined to find a way.


End file.
